


Then it ain't friendship

by Namarika



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Gamzee is not okay, Hurt/Comfort, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Multi, Other, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, graphic piling, just a general big old mess, none of them are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-04
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-05-18 03:49:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14845131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Namarika/pseuds/Namarika
Summary: Nobody expected the dead to join the living post-game.Everyone seems to unanimously agree that Gamzee is the biggest betrayer of them all during the game, yet he was thrown out of it after they won just like the other players.He's acting like a kicked bark-beast, and Karkat has some remaining pale feelings he refuses to act on.He just needs answers, that's all!!





	1. Assess the situation

**Author's Note:**

> I just want more Gamzee angst. That's all I want.

Karkat realized that the life for the remaining heroes was going to be off-the-chart uncomfortable when the game spat out, not only the winning trolls, but also the losers.  
  
It was a miracle that he managed to save Ampora’s skinny ass before Kanaya got to him a second time. That disaster had softened a little when Roxy had burst into loud sobs of relief when she found the green little Cherub (Cali-ope, Karkat thinks it was) ass-up in a tree.  
  
  
And then there’d been… Gamzee.  
  
He was, uh. Yeah.  
  
He was a mess.

 

He’d actually still been in the god damn fridge when it got chucked out of the fading white door; it took the rest of the crew a couple of minutes before they realized what the fuck that meant. Karkat had immediately thought he’d be the one opening it, helping him since he’s Gamzee’s ex, but Dave had simply put a hand on his shoulder and motioned for John to do his thing, (how had John known what to do? What? No, he’s not _jealous_.) and John had looked to Vriska and shrugged, and Vriska had put on her creepy smile and nodded a little. A non-verbal, interspecies convo like that would never had been possible three years ago.

 

Vriska had had her powers at the ready, fingers at her temples as John’s windy-thing sliced through the metal of the chain holding the fridge closed. Everyone had been quiet, awaiting with bated breath for creepy honks.  
  
There was only one tiny little honk. It made old pity in Karkat throb uncomfortably, and his fronds twitchy.  
  
Vriska, obviously, did not share that pity, and had tried to mind-control Gamzee the moment the fridge slammed open after a particularily strong gust of wind.  
  
Uh. Bad idea.  
  
It had happened so fast that half of the crew flopped to the ground in sheer surprise, clutching their heads- the rest of the crew’s faces twitching into uncomfortable grinning grimaces at the chucklevoodos gathering around them in a thick, invisible, cool mist.  
  
It hurt Karkat to know that Gamzee never liked using them. It hurt him to know it was a last-resort thing.

 

 _”Go. Away. Motherfuckers.”_ Gamzee had slurred, a protective hand on his throat. He was gasping for air. Had it been air-tight?  
  
It’s funny, really. With a group like this, fear never means defeat. It just means they have to fucking murder the thing that’s making them antsy. Kanaya was already stalking forward with her chainsaw, and Karkat had jumped into action without even half-thinking it through.

  
”No-!” He’d yelped it- fucking yelped it like Gamzee was an unruly fucking meowbeast who’d pissed the bed by accident, and he was the kid who loved it unconditionally even though it stanked up the whole room for weeks.  
  
Kanaya had outright groaned, revving up the chainsaw and chirring at Gamzee in a way that made the rest of the troll’s top-mane rise. Karkat ignored that, and also ignored the indecent noise Nepeta had made in return. (what the fuck was that? He’s going to need an update on her shipping-wall.)

 

”Li-” He cleared his throat roughly, setting his face into his ’asshole-leader’ role, squaring his shoulders, ”Listen here, you filthy fucking bulgeknots! Did we _just_ get finished defeating a great ugly overgrown green fucking abomination, just to continue culling in the first fucking _minutes_ on our new fucking planet??? Is that REALLY what we’re doing right now??”  
  
Kanaya had looked a bit abashed. Vriska had rolled her eyes. Jake was nodding slowly, then looked around, then shook his head slowly. Jesus fuck.

 

”Okay. Right. That’s just wonderful. Hey, Feferi, how about you just pop back into the game and grab your Dancestor’s crown, pop it on your head, and fucking skewer me with your weapon of choice? Let’s all just revert back to our nice and comfy Alternian standards, grab your culling-devices, let’s all just fucking eviscerate each other on the spot. Freedom? What freedom! Not on this planet we all fucking made together! Excuse me while I take a nice, graceful _swandive_ into the abyss that is the abscence of my fucking hope that any _one_ sentient being in my current relative prescence has the fucking DECENCY to lay off human-murdering for FIVE FUCKING SECO-”  
  
What.  
The **fuck**.  
Was that?  
  
”Shh-..shuush, brother, ’zall right..”  
  
There is a full five moments of silence, as if in respect of pale decency lost, before Equius pulls a towel out of his sylladex and starts wiping.  
  
Karkat is too put out (does it count as pacified? Oh my fucking Gog.) to continue yelling- he just stares at the hand slapping weakly at his calf, then over to the rest of the being it belongs to.  
  
”Are you for fucking serious right now.” Dave winces at Karkat’s tone. It’s real when he goes monotone. But even he knows he can’t walk in on this mess right now, and is simply a statue on Karkat’s left-hand side.  
  
”…” Gamzee looks up to him, still a bloody, drooling mess. His eyes are back to their normal yellow. Huh. When was the last time he’d seen yellow in his eyes? Actually, he can spot soft purple discoloration-veins in them. That’s a bit early for him, isn’t it?  
  
”… WELL?” He snatches his foot back, and flinches at Gamzee’s resulting flinch. What the fuck? ”Are you going to fucking explain?!”  
  
”… ah.” Gamzee, laying there with blood slowly seeping out of him, face a lank mask and eyes droopy and hooded as always, looks somewhat confounded and uncertain. He looks around a little, then bows his head and leans his cheek on the ground, horns neatly going on either side of Karkat’s ankle. If Karkat hadn’t known it was by accident, he would have collapsed from the sheer indecency. Someone in the crowd chokes on a chirrup.  
  
There is a long pause. It seems like Gamzee is not going to explain anything today.

 

”I—” a couple of hisses in the crowd as Eridan speaks up; he’s not popular either. ”I think..” He’s obviously, for once in his god damn life, trying to say this in the least meddlesome and non-ashen way. ”Gamzee.. deserves to maybe. W-w..” He glubs, then blushes, but trudges on, teeth grinding a little. ”Tell us his story. Because. I got the chance. And Vriska.” Tavros makes a little sound in disagreement, but folds his arms non-commitedly. Seems like he finally grew himself some rumblespheres.  
  
”I mean-” John’s grating voice fills Karkat with the need to smack him. ”I guess I’m like, really tired, and we don’t really know what’s up and down right now?” He looks around to the rest of the crowd, then shrugs when nobody seems want to add to that. They are the friend-leaders. It is them. ”So, like- yeah, why not! I second that!”  
  
”I second that too.” Grumbles Karkat, holding a hand up in his vote and glaring at the rest of the gang. The humans seem eager to not cull anything, and most of the highbloods agree (Equius’ hand shoot up so fast it’s a blur. Seems like his spades are still going _strong_ ).

 

”Uuuuuuuugh, fiiiiiiiine!” Vriska tosses her hair over her shoulders and crosses her arms. ”I’m toast _anyways_.” Terezi’s mouth is a slit on her face, but she doesn’t say anything. Tavros looks uncomfortable, though that’s nothing new.

 

”Well- fucking good!” Karkat says decisively, and looks around with more focus. The rainforest looks quite idyllic, if a little too humid for his tastes. ”We need somewhere to sleep.”  
  
And so, he started kicking people into gear: Jade, un-shrink your houses from your respective planets and bring them here. John, flatten this land there. Roxy, void up this. Nepeta, slaughter the beasts Tavros lure in for dinner.

 Leading is at least 0.3% easier when there’s not a death-threat hanging over you.

 

* * *

 

  
When the sun finally settles (holy shit, they’ve been out in the sun for hours and he doesn’t feel even a single twinge on his hide.), Jane approaches him timidly. She does not seem like the bossyboots John claimed she was.  


”Umm, Karkat- I hope I’m not intruding?”  
  
”I’m just planning for tomorrow, Jane-hum- Jane. What is it?”  
  
”Oh, I .. I was just wondering, since I have healing powers…?”

 

She looks to him with a meaningful look that goes straight over his thinkbox. ”Yeah? I’m aware? And?” He might be getting a bit grouchy. He’s hungry damnit! Her brows falls into deadpan, and yeah, he can see the bossiness a little now.  
  
” _So._ I was wondering if I should. Heal the creepy cl- .. uh. Gamzee, was it?” She glances behind him, and he look over his trusty sylladex-chair to look down at the mess that is Gamzee.  
  
He’d forgotten about him. Shit.  
He’s just laying there. Is he dead?  
  
”Jegus fucking Christ, is he dead? I swear, if he’s dead-”  
  
”ain’t dead, good muhh…fugn.” Gamzee sighs the rest of the sentence, which dies out halfway. Fuck.  
  
”…” Karkat turns away from him, staring down at his notes and crossing something out. ”Yeah, go ahead. Don’t tire yourself out though.”  
  
Jane huffs and whaps his shoulder (hey!), then crouches down to survey the damage. It’s a little hard when he’s on his stomach like this, but there’s a nice little pool of blood around him. It’s unnerving to see how much an indigo can bleed. Or is that just Gamzee?  
  
”Okay, uh, Gamzee? I’m going to heal you now, okay? It shouldn’t hurt.”  
  
Gamzee says nothing.  
It’s a little unnerving.  
  
”.. – o-okay, well, here we go!” Light blue flashes from her fingertips and reflects in her glasses, and she flinches and gasps when it evelops Gamzee; the light splutters out.  
  
Dirk, having watched the whole thing, hurries over to her and puts a hand on her shoulder. Pale infidels, the lot of them.  
  
”Jane- are you-”  
”I’m fine!” She hurries to assure him, glancing back to Gamzee and away, ”It’s just- he’s just. Um.” She shakes her head. ”Never mind, it just took me by surprise!”  
  
Karkat wrinkles his nose, trying to understand while still pretending he’s reading his list. How hurt could that asshole even be? She sealed Dirk’s neck back to his head again for pity’s sake.  
  
Her hands glow again, and this time she only flinches a little when they connect. She heals him for ten…. Twenty… Thirty seconds, then sighs and lets up the healing rays. She wobbles a little, and Dirk holds her steady. Ugh, it’s so fucking cute.  
  
”Jane-”  
”It’s fine! It’s fine, I just.. I think I’m a little more knackered than I originally thought! Hehe.” The laugh is a little weak. She looks at Gamzee with what looks like sadness. ”I- I healed you the best I could, Gamzee. Does anything in particular hurt?”  
  
”…” The only definite proof that Gamzee is better is that he curls up on himself, tucking his knees up to his belly and chest. Just when it looks like Jane will let it drop, he mutters a weak ”thanks, healing sis.”. A small relieved smile flits over her face, and she nods firmly. ”Tell me if something is wrong, okay? Especially if you feel a bullet in there!”  
  
Gamzee is so slow- slower than he was even before- but he nods in the end, a horn scraping gently against the soil. Jane presses her lips together, but shares a look with Dirk and stands up, dusting off her god-tier PJ’s. The two of them nudges shoulders before walking back to their designated areas.  
  
Silence again. Between Karkat and Gamzee now. Isn’t Gamzee even going to try to talk?  
  
  
Whatever. It’s fucking useless just waiting for Gamzee to open up.

 

* * *

 

 

In the end, when the houses were evenly spread out in their make-shift neighbourhood and everyone’s bellies were full of nutrients (and dry cup-noodles), Karkat figured Gamzee wouldn’t actually move unless someone explicitly told him to. And he doesn’t want to accidentally step on him like some stray giant horn.

 

”Gamzee. Get the fuck up, you’re coming with me to my hive.” Nobody even has the gall to cat-call, not even Terezi. Karkat thinks everyone might genuinely feel bad for him for having to take care of the murder clown. Whatever.  
  
Gamzee slowly peels himself off the ground, some dirt on the tip of his horn. He looks dead on his feet. It might be the filthy fake-godtier-PJ’s that’s all ripped to hell that really creates the look.

 

”’f you say so, bro.” Gamzee smiles a little, that closed-mouthed little goofy smile that gave Karkat the blood-pusher squeezes years ago. Now it simply annoys him a little. At least he talks.  
  
”Don’t make me wait up for you, you fucking disaster. And change your fucking clothes, you’re filthy!”  
  
Gamze blinks slowly (so _slowly_ , are you serious right now?!), pulling a little at the hole-ridden shirt and looking at it, then looking up at Karkat, rubbing his lips briefly together (are they chapped? He’s chewing the sides of his mouth by proxy because of his fangs, that idiot.) before murmuring, ”I up’n have no change, bro.”  
  
Karkat stops walking and turns back to him, brows furrowed. ”Get some out from your sylladex, you moron.”  
  
Gamzee’s facial expression doesn’t change much, as blank as Dave’s like this, but he can see his brows knit up in gentle confusion. ”I.. ain’t got none, brother. ’s empty, ’cept my clubs.”  
  
”Are you fucking serious.” Karkat tips his head back and groans, then starts walking again. ”Did you empty your whole fucking miracle sylladex?! How much was there even in that shit??? What about your horns? Your unicycle, your fucking face-paint, Gamzee! It has to be there, why would you even empty it?!”  
  
Karkat is already several feet ahead of him before he realizes Gamzee isn’t following him. He turns around to find him staring down at the ground in concentration.  
  
Karkat growls, putting a hand on his hip, ”Gamzee, get your fucking _move on_.”  
  
Gamzee starts slouching after him, thoughtful little frown wiped out in favour of the lazy-looking blankness.  
  
With a final annoyed sigh, Karkat opens the door to his hive- a replica of his original one anyway, and holds the door open in invitation for Gamzee. ”If you go into a murder-rage in my hive, Gamzee, I _swear_ -”  
  
” ’Won’t, be.. brother, I won’t, crossin’ my bloodpushers.” He sounds so tired…-No, stop.  
  
There’s a scoff slipping through the Cancer’s facenub that he can’t check, before he takes the time to gaze around his old home in nostalgia. His new home was the meteor, but being back here feels… Nice. He’s still glad that Dave will stay here with him. Being alone with Gamzee sounds.. Yeah, no.

 

”So. I’ll let you have the ’coon, I’m actually fucking used to sleeping on a human sleeping-platform if you can believe it.” Karkat gestures vaguely towards the stairs up to his room, but Gamzee shakes his head minutely. Karkat stops up and blinks a little.  
  
”Uh. Fuck you? Ungrateful much? Low-grade slime not to your taste or something?”  
  
”N- … no, Karb- Karkat, that ain’t it.” His voice is so soft. Who the fuck is this?  
  
”…” He waits for a patient five seconds, before bursting. ”Then _what,_ you chuteblister??”

 

Gamzee is quiet, staring a little lower than straight ahead, his horns pointing in a vaguely defensive position. He doesn’t answer.  
  
”—Fucking answer me, Gamzee, what the fuck??!” Karkat’s shoulders automatically hikes up in irritation, but his irritation is disrupted when Gamzee glances up to him in surprise. As if he wasn’t expecting Karkat to demand an answer or something-?  
  
”--.. Ah, um.” He glances to Karkat again, then away, opens his mouth- frowns, swallows, shrugs a little, giving Karkat a slightly abashed smile. ”Miracles, bro.”  
  
”That doesn’t—” Karkat seethes, but it’s familiar at least. ”Even make any Gog damned sense! But fine! If you don’t want to sleep in a ’coon like a normal god-forsaken troll, you can be my guest and lie on the fucking floor for all I care!”  
  
Karkat stomps up the stairs, halfway, before he stomps down again, slips inside his clothing-storage and pulling out a large unmarked black sweater; he always waits to print his sign until the previous one is too ratty. He fishes out some grey pants and holds them out to Gamzee. ”They’re better than the disgrace you dare call your clothes. Throw them out, burn them, I don’t wanna see a single piece of awful god-tier purple for the rest of my short life.”

 

With another soft blink, Gamzee takes the offered clothing and nods a little. ”Can do, brother.” He doesn’t say thank you. He doesn’t say anything more, really. Just obliges.  
  
Creepy.

 

”...Whatever, Gamzee.” Karkat lets his shoulders drop, sighing out heavily. Being angry all the time takes its toll. ”Just. Don’t go fucking crazy while I sleep, okay. We’re all pretty much god-tier, so it won’t even be permadeath.  


 Paaaaause…  
  
  
”… Can ..” Fuck, he sounds so uncertain. It sounded just like a faded, deflated honk. ”I use the loungeplank?”  
  
…  
  
”Yes, Gamzee. You can sleep on the loungeplank. You can. Fucking…” He throws his hands up. ”You can take an ablution if you feel like it too. Actually do, you smell like fucking death. Have youself a fucking feast, I bet there’s some moldy lusus-grub in the fridge, I dunno, make yourself at fucking hive, _Gamzee_.”  
  
He does no such thing. He stands bang smack in the middle of the floor of the living-room, still holding the clothing Karkat gave him, staring into nothing. Eyes glazed.  
  
”Are you even listening to a word I fucking SAY?!?!” He doesn’t mean to get so loud, and he regrets it when Gamzee drops his sweater on the ground in surprise. Shock? He picks it up again, glancing up to him and away.  
  
Even Karkat can realize he’s being a bit of a bulge-pincher.

 

”Look, just—” He pinches the hide between his eyes, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, sighs again. ”I’m fucking tired, okay? Dave will be here in about an hour, and I just want to- sleep. It’s been a long day.”  
  
”… yeah, man.” It’s barely a breath, seeping out of his mouth in a hiss. ”I am up and catching your drift.” Gamzee gently rubs the fabric of Karkat’s shirt between his fronds, nodding a little.

 

”I’m going to bed.”  
  
”Okay.”  
  
”Don’t do anything stupid.”  
  
”I’ll do as you said, brother.”  
  
”-… I mean. Good. You should!”  
  
”I will.”  
  
”Good!!”  
  
”…”  
  
Karkat wants to kick something, and he’s not sure why.  
  
”FINE!”  
  
”…”  
  
He stomps up the stairs, and close the door with a bang of a button. They zip closed with a rusty clank.

 

 

 


	2. Something's wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not betaed so... pls;;;

Days went by.   
  
Things are awkward as shit, if Karkat is being perfectly honest. Nobody really wants to talk about everything that’s happened, everyone is bone-tired, and most of the people on this new, strange earth wants to at least avoid quadrant confusion to their best ability.   
  
Trolls are starting to get used to being diurnal, with the sole exception of Nepeta and possibly Equius, who are in charge of hunting. Tavros pretty much started crying after the third day of luring animals out to die, and nobody (well, _almost_ nobody) had the heart to tell him to suck it up.

 

Despite what Karkat had initially thought, the humans are doing really well! They seem to be pretty upbeat about being out of the game, and they’re activiely trying to lighten up the mood; if by joking around, pranking, snarking and in some situations strifing are a healthy way of coping.   
  
But what the fuck does he know. He’s barely coping at all.

 

Like always, Karkat had all sorts of ideas and scenarios about how him and Gamzee were going to handle their.. Ex-situation. He started by having extravantly preposterous fantasies about getting back together after breaking down into a sobbing mess in eachother’s arms, everything forgiven and forgotten.   
  
Then, he’d figured that is never going to happen (He knew that, okay??? But it’s really nice to just imagine some things ANYWAY, not that he even wants to get back together with a god-damn murder-wiggler like him.), and of course took a 180 into pessimist-land, population Karkat and possibly Dirk. Nothing is ever going to get better ever, and actually they all should just commit mass suicide and get it over with.   
  
Once that drama had passed, Karkat allowed himself to think rationally.

 

And actually, by that time, five days had passed.

 

They are so god damn lucky they’re immortal, cause Karkat is so fucking sure he could think his life away if he could.

 

Gamzee had… Well, honestly, he hadn’t done shit. He is awake when Karkat and Dave bustle out of the bedroom, sleepy-eyed and groggy (and kind of frightening, Dave tends to add in the case of Karkat, which most of the time ends up with Dave’s arms riddled in bitemarks), he stays in the house as Dave and Karkat goes out to build the neighbourhood out some more- Karkat doesn’t know if he goes out or if he stays there, but he seems a little relieved when they get back home in the evening.

 

The whole group of heroes has decided that they’ll stay in what the humans call the stone-age until people have gotten their bearings. Relaxed some. Hashed out feelings, or at least managed to suppress them enough that people won’t even notice how traumatized they all are. (Rose is so fucking uncomfortable a person to hang out with; she’s even admit to enjoying making people sweat. She should talk to Equius more.)

 

 

Karkat worries. Of course he fucking does. Sweet stars above, he does worry. Gamzee barely says a word, not to him, not to Dave, not to anyone. Now that Karkat sits in his and Dave’s bedroom late in the evening, Dave over at John’s for some ’bro-time’ – ugh, calm yourself Vantas, they’re human _bro_ s. Utterly outside his and Dave’s quadrant, and probably disgustingly alien-different from a pale one.   
  
And talking about pale, and Karkat’s aversion to even think properly about his ex.

 

…

  
He just wants to TALK!   
  
Okay, yeah, that’s like. Basic denial for a pale quadrant. Logically, Karkat _knows_ ’I just want to talk’ is the most used, cliche, teensweeper pale drama line that has sissy-trolls chirruping and whimpering with a need to be pacified.

  
But on the _non logical_ side! Karkat can ignore that, and say with utter certainty that oh- he just wants to check up on his ex, because of course he does, he is Karkat Vantas, the friend-leader, and he needs to know he can help everyone! Even his very, very fucking creepy and harder-than-ever-to-understand ex.

 

He’s just being a good leader, he swears.

 

…

 

Fuck, this is going to _suck_!

 

 

 

”Gamzee! We need to fucking talk.”   
  
Gamzee’s shoulders stiffen and rise up a little towards his ears, which are droopy. They’ve been droopy since after the game.

 

Ugh.   
  
Karkat stomps down the stairs with determination, in his human PJ’s, which are printed with crabs.   
  
Or he WOULD have been, if that wasn’t an explicitly super-pale thing to do. So he’s wearing his normal attire.

 

Gamzee, unfortunately, is also wearing Karkat’s normal attire. Without the sign of course. The sweater hikes up a couple of inches up his stomach, and the sleeves are short enough that he’s pulled them up to his elbow. The sweatpants look ridiculous.   
  
He’s so fucking thin. It makes Karkat’s stomach clench looking at his bony wrists and ankles.

 

Gamzee looks over the couch and up to him, pressing his lips together- his face hasn’t changed much from it’s seemingly constant befuddled, kind of confused blankness.   
  
”… Uh. What are you up and wanna be asking of me, bro..?”   
  
He’s leaning against the end of the loungeplank, a lanky arm over the side of of the arm of it. His limbs have gotten really long.; it takes Karkat by surprise every time he sees it. He files that information into his ’definitely leader-relevant information’ folder.

 

Karkat flops down onto the couch, on the other side, and crosses his arms. He feels like grabbing a TV remote and changing the channel, but there’s no TV: not unless they ask Roxy for a powersource, which he hasn’t really had the need to do yet. What the fuck is Gamzee even doing all day..??   
  
”What the fuck are you even doing all day?!”   
  
It maybe, possibly, probably definitely came out a little more aggressive than intended.

 

Gamzee looks unimpressed. Or, well, blank. Karkat is getting so TIRED of blank!   
He takes a look around Karkat’s house, worrying his lower lip a little, stroking a finger over the back of his own hand. He shrugs a little.   
  
”Dunno, dude. Just up and kicking at some wicked relaxation, I’m guessing?”   
  
Karkat has always admired Gamzee for saying so many words that actually means zilch.   
  
”Oh- yes, my bad. I totally hadn’t noticed that you’re not doing shit. I just completely couldn’t tell that you haven’t even fucking showered yet, that you’re just sitting here in a week-old wardrobe that also smells like death now because _you_ smell like death, even though I told you on the FIRST day that you should take an ablution asap!”   
  
Gamzee doesn’t look very bothered by Karkat’s outburst- maybe actually a little abashed.   
  
”Oh.” Gamzee pauses a little, moving a hand up to feel at the squeak-beast-nest that is his hair, pulling a curl out straight before letting it bounce into it’s original place. ”So… You want me to take an ablution?”   
  
”I- yes, I’d really fucking appreciate it-??! What, do you need to be told that you fucking stink to get the hint?!”   
  
Gamzee stands, nodding easily. ”I’ll go take an ablution, brother, ain’t no trouble.”   
  
”Gamzee, I wasn’t done talking! Don’t be an asshat and sit the fuck back down!”  
  
He sits the fuck back down.   
  
A pregnant pause.   
  
”… Have you- ugh, I can’t believe I’m asking this, don’t you get _any_ fucking ideas about this being more than platonic or I’ll shave your horns off- but have you even fucking eaten since we ended the game?”   
  
”…” He looks thoughtful, and Karkat let’s him ’get his think on’. If anything, he’s realized Gamzee is probably even slower now than he ever was on sopor. Or maybe he’s guzzling it down in secret? ”I guess I up and motherfuckin’ haven’t.” He looks unapologetic.

 

There’s no need to panic, really. Coldbloods live longer, and it takes longer for them to metabolize the things they eat, and therefore can go longer without food. Five days is a stretch, but nothing that should be overly uncomfortable for someone as cold as Gamzee.

 

But.. He’s skin and bones! He looks like a human beggar! His cheekbones could cut glass, and not in the bishie sexy way!   
  
”Gamzee- you-” A small, incredulous ’ah’ from Karkat as he flouders for the right words. ”You _have to eat_! Why aren’t you eating?? You LIKE eating!”   
  
The Capricorn glances to him, then to the kitchen, then shrugs- a slow motion with both his shoulders. He’s rubbing a hand slowly over his arm, as if to soothe himself. ”I… What do you want me to eat…?” Karkat could tear his hair out.   
  
”I don’t know!! Just grab some of the food we make by the fire?! Go find some berries in the forest? Eat a poor actual monkey alive, I don’t give half a fuck, I just know you have to eat!”   
  
”.. bro..” Gamzee wrinkles his nose, ”you don’t mean that..”   
  
Groan. ”No, Gamzee. I don’t want you to eat a live monkey. But I want you to eat!”  
  
Gamzee looks decidedly uncomfortable now. ”.. So. Like. Ablutions and food? Am I gettin’ this straight and clear as water?”   
  
”I don’t know, Gamzee, _are you_??”   
  
The area under Gamzee’s eyes pinches a little, like he didn’t like Karkat’s answer. Something a little like irritation. It almost makes Karkat relieved.   
  
”I… okay, so..” He looks around a little, worries his bottom lip some more, then nods a little. ”I’ll eat. No problem, Kar..kat. I’ll up and get my clean on too.”

 

”Great! You have done me a huge favour, only being a slight fucking moron about it in fact. Come on, then.”   
  
”uh. What.”   
  
”We’re going to get food. There’s stuff left from dinner.”   
  
”I… naw, man, that.-..” Gamzee shrinks against the couch, mouth dipping into a little frown.   
  
”That what? You need food, there’s food! Come on, I’ll show you where it is!” Karkat stands.   
  
”… I…”   
  
”Come _on_ Gamzee.”   
  
Gamzee gets up as well.   
  
____

 

”Help yourself.” Karkat fishes out the chair from his sylladex, sitting down on it the wrong way like he always does.

 

There’s mostly meat and vegetables on the generic block-table Roxy has provided- grilled, and with some spices they were lucky enough to recognize; a couple of spicy ones the trolls prefer, and some useless shit humans call chives. It tastes alright though.

 

Gamzee eyes the meat first, then the vegetables, then the soup (meat and vegetables. Jane did her best, really.) – he slowly sits down on a large cube, simply looking over the different dishes.

 

”O… kay..” He reaches out a claw towards the meat, hoves his hand over it, then lies his hand on the table empty-handed. He reaches for the vegetables, frowns a little and changes his mind. He eyes the soup and swallows.

 

The process would be downright fascinating if it wasn’t so frustrating.   
  
”Well?? It’s just meat, dig in!”   
  
”Uhuh..” Gamzee’s throat sounds a little tight. He reaches his hand forward again, but makes an uncertain sound in the back of his throat.   
  
”Oh for fucks sake, Gamzee, chow in already?!”  
  
”I don’t know what to eat!!”

 

”Just grab anything!! Grab something and shove it in your complaint-hole!!”  
  
”I don’t know WHAT to MOTHERFUCKING EAT, motherfucker?!”

 

There’s something in the tone of his voice that gives Karkat a stop- he sounds- desperate. Karkat rock back in his seat a little, taking in how Gamzee is crossing his arms defensively, almost holding himself, and staring at the food. Hearing his volume fluctuate in his tell-tale highblood-rage way should make Karkat’s nutrition sack drop, but.. He doesn’t even sound angry?

 

”…” Karkat waits for more, waits for Gamzee to punch the table or flip it- maybe even have a go at Karkat- but no. He just stares at the food, continuing to make that distressed little noise in the back of his throat. Like choosing is impossible.   
  
”.. Well..” Karkat inwardly curses at how soft his voice get, but Gamzee’s gaze is on him now, the yellow in his eyes tinged a soft orange, hardly a shade darker. ”Grab that oinkbeast leg, for starters.”

  
Gamzee is on it before Karkat is even finished with the sentence, The sound of his sharp teeth devouring the somewhat dry meat and a couple of birds in the distance the only sound in the vicinity. He finishes off the leg in two minutes.   
  
”… So..” Karkat clears his throat a little, not quite looking at the troll licking off his claws- sitting there in his clothes, filthy with his own blood and sweat still all the way up to the tips of his horns, sucking off the remaining mean on the bone- then promptly biting through it with a soft crunch- he looks feral.   
  
”You.. Didn’t know what to eat..?”   
  
Gamzee’s eyes narrows and he looks to his ex, still chewing, but with his mouth shut. Surprisingly, he kept any juices from smearing over his paint; but it’s already smudged to hell, so it’s just a weird smear of grey and white.   
  
”I ate now.”   
  
”Yeah, but- you were like-..” Karkat motions uselessly with his hands, ”You couldn’t decide or something-??”   
  
”Uhuh.”  
  
”- Well- … Can I- ask _why_?” Karkat scratches the back of his head a little, uncomfortable.   
  
”… I..” Gamzee swallows, looking at the remaining bone, ”you didn’t say what I could eat, brother.”  
  
”I told you to get any of it though?”   
  
”Yeah, but I didn’t know _what_.”  
  
”What do you _mean_?!”   
  
”What the motherfuck do _you_ mean?” Gamzee huffs a little, chucking the remaints of the bone to the ground; the sharp end inbeds neatly into the soil and stays there. ”I ate, ain’t that what you up and wanted??”   
  
”I guess?? I just- I just feel something isn’t right, okay? You’re- you’re being really fucking strange, even for you! And you’re already REALLY fucking strange!”   
  
Gamzee stares at him. It makes Karkat decidedly uncomfortable. For some reason, _he_ feels like the idiot in this situation. It should piss him off, but if just makes him uneasy.   
  
”Why won’t you TALK TO ME!!” They both rise to their feet quickly, Karkat with anger and Gamzee with apprehension.   
  
”—I – I’m talking with you just fine?!” He crosses his arms, but it looks like like he’s huddling up than looking intimidating.   
  
”No you’re not!” Karkat stomps his foot in a very mature way, ”You’re just hanging around all day doing nothing! You’re doing nothing to get accepted back in with the trolls, Gamzee, what the fuck am I supposed to think?!”   
  
”Well-” Gamzee starts off on the defensive, but slumps a little, more frustrated, ” _well_?! It ain’t all that motherfuckin’ easy for me as if for you, Karbro!”  
  
”Yeah, well why aren’t you just talking to me, then?!”   
  
”I _am_ talking to you!” He’s finally raising his voice, stands a little straighter, ”I am up and living with you, aren’t I?!”  
  
”That doesn’t even matter when you won’t even tell me what happened with you!”  
  
”You already up and fucking _know_ what happened to me, motherfucker!!”   
  
” _To_ you?! Are you trying to make me laugh, chucklefuck?! Are you trying to make me giggle with your pity-party bullshit?” Karkat clenches his fists, feels like he’s frothing with anger, ”EVERYONE has gone through a whole load of bullshit, Gamzee, and you UP AND FUCKING brought that shit onto yourself!”  
  
…  
  
He never thought Gamzee could look so hurt.

 

He slumps like a defeated troll.   
  
”I reckon you just about got that right, motherfucker.”   
  
Karkat also didn’t know Gamzee could flashstep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha, Gamzee makes no sense!


	3. a Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how to paragraph, and I'm too lazy to beta. I'll fix it it. One day. I swear.

”Gamzee!! Oh for fuck’s sake..”  
  
However Karkat wanted that talk to go, searching for Gamzee in the middle of the night was not one of them.

 

At least it’s somewhat of a nice evening; thus far, they’ve only experienced sunny days, not a cloud in the sky- but there’s something nice about the accumulating clouds and the moonlight reflected in them. Karkat briefly finds himself jealous of Nepeta and her hunting-habits; you kind of forget how nice evenings are in the hustle and bustle of daylight.

 

The thought freezes him; oh no. Gamzee lurking around in the shadows is bad enough, but him meeting Nepeta- whom he actually fucking killed? In her natural habitat??  
  
“ _Gamzee_!” He shouts again, with more desperation. There’s no reply. The area is actually disquietingly … quiet. “I didn’t mean to- hurt your stupid clown-feelings, okay?? Come back here!” It’s already been a god damn hour- oh god, he’s gone off on a killing spree again, and this time it’s all Karkat’s fault- _again_!  
  
“GAM-“ A hand slaps over his mouth, and a sickle is in his hand and swinging before he knows how to move- “Purretty sure you’re scaring my prey away, Karkitty!” Someone chirps in his ear, and Karkat almost sags to the ground in relief. He pushes Nepeta’s hand away briskly.

  
“Fucking hell, Nepeta! I could have spilled your guts for that!” Nepeta giggles, her olive eyes reflecting prettily in the moonlight, “I furry much doubt that! You’re looking for Gamzee, right?” She doesn’t school her expression in a scowl, but she might as well have- the tone of her voice says it all.  
  
“I- .. Yeah. God damnit. One moment he was eating, the next he was storming off.” Nepeta gives him a look, and he sighs deeply, “And… I .. Ugh. May have started yelling.” She cocks her head to the side and crosses her arms, “… And I said some stupid shit- but- he just- he’s not making any _sense_!” Nepeta sighs and shakes her head, letting her arms unfold and fall. “Karkat..”

 

Karkat bristles and gives her a glare. It’s uncomfortable enough knowing her (post?) feelings for him and already having that quadrant filled, but this kind of situation is leaning dangerously close to pale. “I know, I’m a fucking moron, okay?!” “I can’t believe you’re still babying him so much!” Karkat stops up, squinting to her, “Wait- what..?”  
  
She looks mildly annoyed. “You know, Feferi is working Eridan like a beast. He’s trying really hard to get back in her good graces- everyone’s really. He’s really been giving it his all. I think he grew up, being in the bubbles for god knows how long.” She even ditched her quirk. Wow. “And Vriska?? Well, I won’t say she’s doing anything, but she’s being nice to Tavros at least- and she gets up in effuryone’s business, sure, but she _is_ getting things done in the camp-..”

 

Karkat feels bad. He knows how everyone feels about Gamzee, and she’s completely right of course- there’s just something- .. Ugh, _some_ thing that’s urging him to get close, know the whole story-

  
“You’re still pale for him, aren’t you.” It sounds as pitying as it sounds exasperated.  
  
“Fuck you, Nepeta.”  
  
“No can do, Karkitty- I don’t hate you that way.”  
  
“No, I know _that_ , how _are_ you and Kanaya by the way?”  
  
Her hide darkens, and she splutters out a little hiss,  
  
“None of your concern is how!”  
  
“Uhuh. Scribbling spades around her sign yet?”  
  
“Fuck you, Karkat!”  
  
He mimics her voice, “No can do Nepetty, I don’t hate you that way..”

  
“Augh! He’s not even here, Karkat! I know my territory! I’m pretty sure he just went back to your place!”  
  
“- Ah..” He glances in the direction he came from. “… Oh. Well. Fuck. I should have checked there first.”  
  
“You kind of should have, silly.”

 

“Yeah okay, bite me. – don’t! Agh! I’m off! Do your stupid hunting, I’m done here!”  
  
“Remember to actually listen, Karkat! You have a tendency to keep babbling!”  
  
“Just keep up the way you are, Nepeta, you’re plenty annoying!”

 

He starts jogging off, blocking out her response on purpose. And if there’s a smirk on his face, that’s surely just a grimace from having to deal with Nepeta. She can be such a fucking lusus sometimes, but in a different way from Kanaya- ugh, whatever.

 

Once he’s back in the camp, it’s obvious to the troll that he should have just headed home. Gamzee’s not been out for days, and he seems reluctant to talk to anyone- had been avoiding it on purpose it seems? (That look of hesitancy, then frustration, then _defeat_ …) It occurs to him that Gamzee most likely _had_ been trying to explain, but that he’s just piss poor at it.

 

Damn Past-Karkat to the deepest depths of Sburb. If he’d only been a bit more patient- a bit more _understanding_. If he could just control his godawful fucking temper!  
  
He grabs a slab of meat (raw, just the way he likes it) and chews as he walks slowly back to the house. Dave won’t be home until morning, so he might as well use the night to find Gamzee and apologize.  
  
“Gamzee…?” His voice is automatically softer as he enters the house. Dave doesn’t appreciate sudden yelling, so they’ve decided to add what Dave calls ‘indoor-voice’ rules to their hive. He seems amused every time the term comes up, so Karkat just went with that.

 

He waits in silence for a sign that anyone’s home. Maybe a stray little honk. But everything’s quiet. His senses tell him (he’s joking of course. He can smell Gamzee’s literal stench since it’s confined in the house) that Gamzee has to be close by, so he gathers up what patience he has left and calls out, possibly even more gently than before, “Gamzee? Look, I’m sorry I said that shit before- I got angry, and – fuck, this sounds like a fucking case of domestic abuse, but I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you.”  
  
Karkat wrings his hands gently, then sighs and puts on the kettle- a lazer stove that luckily doesn’t need electricity to boil water. He’s gently stirring his tea when he hears a soft honk.  
  
From the vents.  
  
How is he still surprised?  
  
Instead of storming over to the vents- (he sees it now, the screws have been meticulously screwed off and laid neat on the closest book-rack) he controls the impulse and simply fetches another cup. Puts a bag of chai in it. Fills it up with tea ¾ of the way. Adds creamer. A good dose of sweetener. Takes a sip of his own herbal tea.  
  
“Hmm. This chai tea I have here sure smells really good.” He says to himself, and takes his place by the table. There’s three chairs there, and he hopes the unused third one will be filled, if just for tonight.  
  
There’s a soft little honk that echoes through the vents. A soft clang of horns hitting metal wall. It’s like hearing a claw against porcelain.

  
All in all, it takes Gamzee ten minutes to finally crawl out of the vents. He pops the entrance of it open with a single claw, slides out (he really is obscenely thin.) and pops it back on. He leaves the screws on the table, which Karkat takes careful note of. He seems very used to the gesture, and it hurts his bloodpusher.  
  
Karkat ignores him for now. Lets Gamzee come close to him, assess the situation. Just him here, sipping on mint tea, chair open for Gamzee to sit down if he wants to. Still dark outside, only the soft lighting of some candles on the eating plateau; Dave says it’s for Karkat since he’s so romantic, but he knows Dave loves the vanilla scented ones so whatever.  
  
Finally, a hand smoothes over the plateau surface hesitantly, and Gamzee stands by the open seat, looking down at Karkat with a closed off expression- his fucking eyes are puffy. Karkat wants to shake him, then possibly slap himself.

 

“I’d really appreciate it if you drank the tea.” Karkat may be an all-time moron, but he doesn’t make the same mistake twice. He adds, “And maybe sit down when you do it.”  
  
A claw taps against the surface a couple of times, as if contemplating, then Gamzee sits down and wraps his slender fingers around the mug. Karkat made sure to take the largest he has, and he’s happy for it now. Gamzee’s shoulders lower a bit as he takes a soft but deep whiff in of the concoction. His ears perk up a little, and if he still wasn’t so filthy it might have been cute.

 

Gamzee takes a hesitant little sip, then another one, meeting Karkat’s eyes for a moment before looking away. He seems uncomfortable with eye-contact. He wasn’t before. Was he?  
  
“I… I’m sorry. I said some shit before, and. I hope you can forgive me.” There. It was hard to say, but he kept it nice and clean. Nothing demanding. Nothing overly pale. Just… Sincere. Gamzee is looking at him, suddenly so sharp and _there_ that it gives Karkat goose-bumps.  
  
“… A brother can say what he want, Karkat. If you up and meant it, you ain’t got to feel bad just cause I-..” A small shrug.  
  
“No, I – now that I’ve thought about it, I … Really don’t know the whole story, and seeing your reaction kind of made me realize I shouldn’t, you know. Just shout out the first thing that enters my think-pan just to win a conversation..” He’s not faking the abashedness creeping into his voice. Gamzee seems kind of relieved, but also still hurt. He takes a long sip of the tea, looking anywhere but at his lost diamond.  
  
“… Then. I thank you for generous’n thought out words, brother. No need for me to cover up and say it ain’t did any affecting on me, those previous harsh words you spilled in my direction, but..” He cocks his head a little to the side and smiles, amused but wistful, “not like I didn’ know your affliction by the previous. So ‘pology accepted.”

 

It might be one of the most profound things Gamzee has said in his entire life. A more basic part of Karkat’s mind is surprised Gamzee can form more than one sentence at the same time that actually makes sense, but- Gamzee never … Really admitted to being weak or affected before, and now- it seems like he’s outright telling Karkat that he’s hurt, but- but also that he knows how Karkat gets-  
  
“I- thank you, I .. guess…” Karkat grumbles into his tea, feeling the tips of his ears get hot. Ugh.  
  
They sit in comfortable silence until Gamzee finishes up his tea.

 

Karkat hesitates. “So, about… What happened..?” Gamzee’s shoulders bunch up immediately, and Karkat backpedals desperately.

  
“Nothing like that! I just.. Wanted you to know that… Well, everyone’s trying to put it all behind them so..” An idea lights up in Karkat’s pan, and he could _kiss_ himself. Platonically. “I need some muscle for moving some stuff tomorrow- Jade’s out exploring with Jake, so …”  
  
The purple-blood looks immensely relieved at the change of topic, and Karkat is surprised that he can read his face so easily.  
  
“Sure, bro- ain’t no skin off my back to toss some rocks around- or- whatever the motherfuck needs movin’.” He actually seems kind of excited.  
  
“Okay- I’m supposed to head out at around noon, so how about you join me then?”  
  
“Uhuh!”  
  
“Okay- awesome! Uh. And… And we’re.. good?”  
  
“What do you mean, bes- uh, ninja?”  
  
“I mean you’re not- angry or… I don't know, you’re feeling better?”  
  
“Feelin’ as swell as I ever did?”  
  
That’s not really reassuring.  
  
“Well- I’m.. Glad. I’ll fetch you before I go, then.”  
  
“- oh, yeah, uh-“  
  
“Hmm?” Karkat sees him start to fidget with his claws, curiosity piqued.

  
“No, just- did you want me to get an ablution on before that-?”  
  
Uhhhh….? “Well.” If you want to? That would make him all insecure again, wouldn’t it. “Sure, take your ablution in the morning, just so you don’t embarrass yourself when you meet the others.”  
  
“—Right. Yeah. Makes sense dude.” A relieved smile again. Definitely avoided a land-mine.  
  
“Well- I think I better head to bed. Long day tomorrow and all that shit.”  
  
“Right you are, brother. Have the least murdery of dreams.”  
  
“Yeah, same to you. Don’t let the parasites bite.”  
  
“We have parasites here?!”  
  
“Turn of phrase, moron.”  
  
“—haha. Right you are.”  
  
Sigh. “Good morning, Gamzee.”  
  
“Good night.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

 

 

When Karkat wakes up, it’s to Dave jumping into their bed and kissing him straight on his godawful smelling gawk-hole, and Karkat almost bites through Dave’s lower lip in sheer surprise (and then, in rage). Dave yelps, then laughs happily and kisses him again. It’s a little nicer.  
  
“Ugh, you breath stinks..” He kisses down Karkat’s neck, and wow, how awful is it that Karkat is sooo foggy in the morning that he can’t even fight it? Not very, Karkat decides. He hums happily when Dave nibbles on that little muscle close to his neck, and wraps his arms around his chest, kicking off the covers so he can soak in the coolness of Dave’s body, feeling it heat up against his own heater-level warm one.  
  
“Welcome back, bulgemuncher..”  
  
“Miss me..?”  
  
Karkat hums, half-strangling a chuckle,  
  
“Not really.”  
  
“Rude.”  
  
“Mhmm..”  
  
“Did you talk to Gamzee..?”  
  
“Yeah-..?? Wait, how did you-?”  
  
“Was all over your face when I left sweet-cheeks. Also, like, since day one.”  
  
“You planned this.”  
  
“Le moi? Never.”  
  
“Stop with your ugly human-dialect. Fucking dick.”  
  
“Are you flirting with me?”  
  
“Yes.”

 

They kiss, then make a face at how bad that tasted.

  
“I’m taking an ablution.”  
  
“Nah, Gamzee just went into the bathroom, I could hear him showering.”  
  
“He’s awake? Wait, he _is_?”  
  
“Yes and _yes_. Miracles. Hehe.”  
  
“That’s insensitive, you cunt. Don’t use his quirk like that.”  
  
“That’s part of his quirk?” Dave flops onto Karkat’s chest, and he grunts.  
  
“Yes. I told you, for you humans anything said in excess should be counted as a quirk.”  
  
“Right…” Dave sighs a little, then continues kissing at Karkat’s cheeks and neck… Then lower… looower….  
  
“Ah-! D-Dave, fuck’s sake-“  
  
“What~” Dave simpers like a baby, “I like your gills! Let me make out with them.”  
  
“That is _not_ what- a-ah! – OW!”  
  
“Fuck, I’m so sorry-“  
  
“Never put your teeth there _ever_ again.”  
  
“I’m sorry…” Apology-kisses.  
  
“… Okay, fine.”  
  
“…”  
  
Groan. “It’s _okay_ Dave, c’mere.” More apology-kisses. A hand smoothing apologetically over his bare side. A gentle shiver.

…  
  
“No, sorry Dave, my bulge retreated so quick and hard I think it inverted.”  
  
“Aw dude, _no_..”  
  
“It’s true, Dave. I’m now bulgeless. I’ll live my life as a mindless drone from this day. A truly tragic loss.”  
  
“I’ll miss it. It was a great pal, best playmate.”  
  
“Ugh. Okay, enough. I’m waking up now, I need coffee.”  
  
“Human or troll coffee?”  
  
“Obviously human. What do you take me for.”  
  
“A-“  
  
“Don’t say a troll, don’t say anything.” A quick, slightly harsh peck, and Karkat pushes Dave off the bed and slips out of the bed himself, slipping on his usual attire. Dave hits the floor with a squawk.  
  
“ _Rude_!”  
  
Karkat snickers evilly and closes the door behind him.  
  
He decides he’s in an especially good mood today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't help it, I just love DaveKat too much to not write it??? This is mainly Kat&Gam though, don't worry >: )


	4. Chai, showers and betrayal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aah yes, the beginning of a nice day!

 

He takes his time making breakfast. Cutting up the alchemized grubloaf just so (he and Gamzee are the only ones willing to eat anything alchemized at the moment.), filling a transparent liquid container with water, setting the table, turning on the coffee-machine.. Ah, yes, the only proper power-source he’s asked of Roxy; he can’t live without his coffee.

 

Dave is hanging around his neck like a floaty cloak, barely a couple of ounces as he levitates at shoulder height, being dragged around like a balloon.

 

He’s so fucking adorable.

 

Karkat has been staring at the table and its contents when he realizes Gamzee has been using an obscenely long time in the bathroom. The shower is still going; and it’s not really a problem- the water goes through a cleaning system and heating has been provided by a psionic-charged battery (psionic powers _only_ ), so it’s not like how Dave described his apartment (“shitty, cold and lonely”) – there’s plenty of warm water…

 

The only problem is that.. The coffee is getting cold, and they’re leaving in an hour. And Karkat wants to take a god damned shower too.

 

He grumbles and stomps up the stairs, Dave steadfastly holding on.  
  
“Gamzee??” Dave flinches, and Karkat croons a little apology against his cheek, knocking on the bathroom door twice. “It’s been an hour, have you fainted in there?”  
  
“… uh?” Gamzee’s dopey voice can’t quite betray the nervous little lilt to it.  
  
“You didn’t actually, right? God damnit, Gamzee, can you open the door? Did you fall and crack a horn? I need you to open up _now_.”  
  
Gamzee opens up a couple of seconds later, holding a (mercifully non see-through) ablution repellent cloth-piece in front of his body, head poking out from behind it. He still looks fucking dirty, and he still has the god awful smudged clown make-up on.

 

“I… hey Kar- motherfuck.” He hides completely behind the -.. Okay, shower-curtain, it’s easier to say- foot-nubs curling up, “You up and bring the whole Arena stickball-team up in here, bro??”

 

Gamzee turns the shower off and snatches a fluffy absorption-plane from the rack hurriedly, only a skinny arm and shoulder visible; there are small, round, faintly purple marks on his shoulder and upper arm that Karkat realizes with vague horror is from gunshots.

 

“wow, sorry dude. I didn’t mean to like, be an audience to this straight-up pornographic display. Imma start eating breakfast now.” Dave sounds chill, but his human face changes colour easily, and his voice is too monotone. He’s definitely embarrassed. He floats over the railing and down to the breakfast table.

 

“For someone who loves stairs so much, you sure use them very seldomly, Strider!”  
  
“I warned you about them, bro.”

 

“Ugh.”  
  
“Uhh…”  
  
Fuck. “Fuck Gamzee, I’m sorry- uh, I just- you’ve been in the shower for a long time, and I was just-?? We’re leaving in an hour, and evenin- no, morning-grub is ready, so..”  
  
The sound of Gamzee towelling himself down roughly is somewhat pleasant in his ears, if only for the reason that Gamzee will be clean finally.  
  
“Yeah, sorry bro. I was just…” He shrugs visibly behind the curtain, “getting my clean on, as said by my- .. friend. “  


“Right- yeah, I… Sure said that, yesterday.” Karkat remains standing there in the doorway awkwardly. Gamzee stands still behind the curtain a little before tilting his head out to check if Karkat’s gone. Only the tips of his hair, his horns and his neck has been washed properly. Actually, his whole face looks suspiciously dry.  
  
“Did- could I help a brother none? Were you up and wondering something, ninja?” he sounds nervous again.  
  
“I- no, sorry, I just. Was thinking.” _Too much,_ he adds to himself, “I’ll get you a new set of sweaters and pants, okay. You need briefs as well?”  
  
Gamzee blinks, “You wear briefs?”  
  
“I- whatever the fuck, Gamzee, I’m getting you a change of clothing, fucking Jegus.” He has the audacity to look amused.

 

“Sure thing. I’ll just. Dry myself off in the mean of the times.”  
  
Karkat closes the door firmly and trots down the stairs, not actually feeling as mortified as he should. Dave hunching over by the table is a more accurate description of what he should be feeling.  
  
“I’m getting him a change of clothes. God knows it’ll be nice to not smell the whole ‘stuck in a fridge for god knows how long’ smell out of the house.”  
  
…  
  
Dave and Karkat looks at eachother, shades against red. Dave pushes his shades up and looks to him seriously.  
  
“.. That’s so fucked up.”  
  
“It’s so fucked up. What the fuck.”  
  
“’For god knows how long.’ Jesus Christ.”  
  
“I can’t believe that came out of my own fucking shouthole.”  
  
“I think you literally just compared him to a moldy-“  
  
“Stop it, no, I don’t need an extended metaphor on the awful thing I just said.”  
  
He slips into his clothing-storage again, and searches for something bigger; something he’s been saving for his next molt, maybe? But they’re still pathetically short, just like him. Gamzee will just have to live with it.  
  
The pair share a guilty look as Karkat trots up the stairs again, holding his price to his chest. How long _was_ Gamzee in that fridge? When did that happen again? Hadn’t he seen that fridge fly around during the final fight or something..?  
  
“Gamzee-?” He knocks on the door, and Gamzee slides it open just a little, holding an arm out for the clothes. Karkat hangs it over his arm like he’s a butler.  
  
“Thanks, Karbro.”  
  
“Just come down soon, okay? I’ll make tea.”  
  
“You got it.” With the door between them, Gamzee’s voice goes all soft and dreamy again.

 

He slides the door shut with a soft click. Doesn’t lock it.

 

For a moment, Karkat is tempted to join him in the slightly cramped, kind of ugly yellow-orange bathroom, take in the damage, let palms slide soothingly over the damaged skin on Gamzee’s shoulders-

 

He almost bites his tongue bloody, and walks down the stairs to join Dave. He digs into the grub-loaf, and ignores his boyfriend’s wrinkled nose. So what if he likes alchemized honey on his grubloaf, God. Better than that awful fucking grain-powder-paste humans eat so they can shit better.

 

His eyes are on Gamzee the moment he exits the ablu- the bathroom. Karkat really should be more used to jumping between vocabularies, but as usual he’s just a mess.

  
Much like Gamzee. He must have taken the _least_ productive shower known to trollkind.  
  
Or, well.  
  
His body seems clean enough. His skin, honest to the stars and planets around them, look a couple of shades lighter. Karkat sincerely consider the possibility that adult trolls just stop showering to acquire that sooty black look. A soft shade of purple is shining through his grey hide, as it should. This new sweater looks a tiny bit better on his body than the previous one, but it’s huge on him in all the wrong ways, and gives him a solid inch of uncovered tummy-hide. Karkat can’t ignore the soft bumps and ridges there, his stomach obviously also scarred from bullet-wounds.  
  
The pants. They’re.. Floofy fucking asshole-shorts. Long asshole-shorts, but still asshole _shorts_. His calves, apparently, were not a frequent target for shooting.

 

Gamzee has- obviously- avoided cleaning his face. And hair. And barely his horns. The tips are a nice clean yellow (Karkat can see the ridges of them plainly, and can easily tell Gamzee hasn’t polished his horns in sweeps. He shudders at the thought), but further down towards his hornbeds the colour gets more and more grimy, like he simply gave up.  
  
Karkat suspects he didn’t want too much water running over his face and ruin what smudged up facial paint he has left.

 

It’s so hard not to care- to storm over to him and drag him back to the ablution block and tenderly wipe off that awful fucking grease off, promise him to get more facepaint- if that is by experimenting with alchemizers or asking Roxy nicely, he has no idea, but he’d make it fucking work- to pap his clean face tenderly, to comb through or alternatively cut the mess that is his top-mane..

 

“Karkat, the water’s boiling.” Dave says it loud enough for him to know it’s the second time he’s said it, and Karkat curses and hurries over to the kettle and shuts it off.  
  
“Why didn’t you just turn it off!”  
  
“I dunno.”  
  
He answers simply with a sigh of exasperation; Dave has the weirdest hang-ups.

 

Gamzee, having only been witness of this hustle and bustle, is clutching limply at the hem of the borrowed sweater, rubbing at the fabric in a way that reminds Karkat of stimming. He looks between the two of them, simply soaking in the atmosphere- the tips of his hair are still wet.

 

“Just a moment, I’m making the tea now. Sit down and grab yourself some grubloaf in the meanwhile, ‘kay?” Karkat grumbles offhandedly as he repeats the ritual of yesterday; tea, water, creamer, sweetener. Stir. Briefly contemplate the pros of having the sweetener in before the creamer, but it’s already too late.

 

“I thought you said you didn’t drink milk-products. Like it was all, ‘ew, only Equius would be that gross, what the fuck’, and I’m like ‘hey, that’s part of a healthy diet on earth’, and you started shouting about how Equius had ruined mankind or something..?”  
  
Karkat waits patiently for Dave to go through his spiel, then brings the tea over to the table; Gamzee has already started tucking into the meal, with much less gusto than he did yesterday.  
  
“This isn’t moo-beast liquid, dickface. This is creamed beanjuice.” Dave makes a face and pokes his tongue out in playful disgust before he seems to catch on, “Oh, so, basically soy-milk?” Karkat rolls his eyes.  
  
“No, it’s not _milk_. Its literally just pressed beanjuice, cooked and whipped to get a nice rich consistency.”  
  
“I’m pretty sure that’s what soymilk is, babe.”  
  
“Don’t call me—anyway, you’re _wrong_ , and why would you even call that milk?!”  
  
“I dunno, it’s for people who doesn’t like milk or can’t digest it I guess?”  
  
“Clearly there are some part of your species that knows how to eat properly.”  
  
“Rude. Not that I was ever a huge fan of milk, but you’ve eaten cheese before and you liked it!”  
  
“Cheese is DEFINITELY not a milk-product, Dave!”  
  
“Oh… Oh no…”  
  
“IT’S DEFINITELY NOT DAVE. TELL ME IT’S NOT A MILK PRODUCT RIGHT NOW.”  
  
A soft honking laugh slips out of Gamzee, and the two snaps out of their little tizzy to look at him; he tips his horns forward defensively and bunches his shoulders up, stopping up mid-bite.  
  
“Uh… Sorry.”  
  
“No, man- Karkat’s hilarious, I’m laughing too. On the _inside_.”  


Karkat is sitting there, transfixed. How long as it been since he’s heard Gamzee laugh? Did he laugh at all while they were together..? What kind of fucking boyfriend was he? _Is_ he?? Gamzee is looking to him nervously, as if he’s done something wrong, fangs digging into the corners of his mouth, making his dimples stand out more, eyes large and dopey and – and fucking sweet-..  
  
“I…” Karkat starts weakly, shaking his head to clear out his thoughts, “I can’t believe I’ve stooped so low as to eat milk-products..” Shoulders untense, Dave snickers with some relief, and Gamzee resumes chewing. “Equius should get a kick out of this. I’m assuming all your human pizza-cheese is also made from… ugh, milk?”

 

Dave and Gamzee shares a chuckle at his dispense. “I thought everyone up and knew that at the time, brother. You sharin’ some good old common ground with a blueblood is ticklin’ at my clown-side.” A breathy little _honk_ follows his mirthful-sounding confession, and Karkat growls.  
  
”Oh, laugh it up, chucklefuck! You never even fucking ate any pizza, like you would have known any better!” Karkat harrumphs and crosses his arms, and tries very hard not to let his smile show. Gamzee snorts gracelessly.  
  
”Course I would’ve, could smell that curdled moo-beast pus the moment it got alchemized. Don’t tell me you couldn’t??” He chuckles a little more, a hand over his mouth, while Dave looks like he suddenly noticed mold in his apple-juice.  
  
”Jesus… What a description of cheese.. I’ll have to send that word by word to Rose.” Dave fishes up his trusty phone and starts tapping away.  
  
”I could smell it, I just couldn’t- I mean, it doesn’t smell similar at all when it’s heated up?!”  
  
”Smells more like moo-beast when it’s warm, Karbro..”  
  
”Then maybe it was lukewarm and didn’t smell??”  
  
”Okay, brother, I’m just saying..” His shoulders are shaking a little, and he’s grinning behind his hand.  
  
”I would have known if it was warm, okay??”  
  
”hehehe _honk…_ ”  
  
”Oh _shut up_!”  
  
Gamzee shuts up, hand frozen hovering in front of his mouth, eyes wide. Dave lowers his phone a little. Karkat stares.  
  
Under their gaze, the purpleblood shrinks in on himself, gaze flitting quickly between them and then to the table, eyes glazed. Oversized fangs gnawing a little on the sides of his mouth.  
  
After sharing a quick look with Dave, and a moment of silence (was he going to speak up? Was he really just going to.. Stop up like that?), Karkat speaks up.  
  
”—oh, uh.. Come on, it wasn’t a fucking order-..?” It comes out as a question instead of the joking tone it was supposed to have, and an infinitely soft one at that. Damnit. Gamzee lifts his gaze though, glancing to Karkat’s chin before nodding, mumbling something similar to agreement. He fiddles with the hem of his borrowed sweater.

 

”… Sorry.”  
  
”You don’t have to be sorry, Gamzee, I was being a fucking jackass as usual.”  
  
”No, ain’t-.. ’mean, I know you, uh..” A soft sigh.  
  
”I what..? I’m a fucking moron? I know you know. Everyone knows. It’s me.”  
  
”Hey now, don’t stigmatize my boyfriend like that.”  
  
”Shut up, Dave.  
  
…  
  
”Just. Sorry, I guess.” A small sip of Spicy Chai. Silence.  
  
”… Well, I guess I better go shower now before we’re late!!” Karkat gets up and practically sprints up the stairs.  
  
Dave’s expression could be the dictionary example of ’betrayed’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm... How will this day even end? When will I write that scene I have in my head? Am I using too much dialogue?  
> These are all questions I have no answer to.


	5. Building something new

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the wonderful comments so far! :-)

It’s not that Karkat is a wuss, he quietly tells himself as he rinses out shampoo from his mane, careful to not accidentally scritch at his horns (it makes him cringe, and makes his thinkpan feel stuffy). He just doesn’t want to say stuff he doesn’t mean, like ’why are you sorry about stupid things?’ and ’please tell me why you’re acting so strange and different, Gamzee.’.

 

Karkat has never really managed to mind his own business, in true Kanaya style he’d add, but there’s something specific about Gamzee that really makes him want to _take care of him_. Right now that something makes him want to rip his hair out! Gamzee is being so slow and- hesitant and quiet, and it’s so different from how he’s always known him to _be_.  
  
His Gamzee is aloof, sure, but he’s chatty. Annoyingly so. Talking about miracles and clowns and ’how wicked his skills in the unicycle is getting, answer the videochat Karbro’. He never really said anything of particular depth (or sense for that matter), but he’d been- happy. Silly. Maybe more than a little high.

 

Maybe what really sets Karkat on edge is that Gamzee is so _present_. His eyes are sharp when they meet his own red, he takes in what Karkat says, Karkat thinks anyway. It reminds him of when Gamzee went through withdrawals and- and he’s not gonna think about that mess of guilt and horror and forgotten pale feelings, he’s going to focus on getting the mane-softener where it needs to be.

 

Thoroughly clean, in a lot less time than his moronic clown friend managed, Karkat towels himself off in rough, efficient motions, wraps the towel around his waist, and grabs his keratin-bar (a dent in it already the vague shape of his horns) and polishes his horns in equally efficient circular motions. He’s aware that having small horns in some ways is nice, in that he doesn’t have to care about the upkeep so much, but he’s always wondered how it is to have obscenely gigantic horns like Tavros’. It has to be a tremendous pain in the neck (literally) to keep nice and smooth. Maybe he has ogled how smooth and polished they are a time or two. He’s only a troll! He bites into his automatic brushing device and holds for 30 seconds, spits out the residue and dries his mouth, looking at his reflection briskly.

 

Today is going to be important, he’s decided to himself. Gamzee is finally going to talk to other people than himself, and he needs to make sure- that is, he is … interested in seeing… How Gamzee acts around other trolls and humans. Karkat will drag him out of his metaphorical shell and force him to _get better_ damnit! Staying at Karkat’s hive and doing shit squat isn’t helping anyone.

 

With a determined scowl, he’s stomping down the stairs again to see Dave and Gamzee hesitantly communicating. Gamzee has his arms spread a little, palms up, and Dave is leaning forward over the table a little, seeming a little more relaxed than he was at Karkat’s departure.  
  
“So what I’m saying, my most timiest brother, is that I ain’t got a care in any world that people ain’t wearing the sacred facepaint, but as I go around and about, I just prefer it since ‘s part of my religion, you get?”  
  
“Was. Right?”  
  
“.. Yeah, I guess you’re motherfuckin’ right. Going without still feels wrong though.”  
  
“I guess it’s more of a habit now, then..? Habits are a bitch to break.”  
  
“Habit, huh. Never quite turned the idea sideways like that, but I suppose you ain’t wrong.”  
Karkat interrupts.  
  
“Wait, you’re not religious anymore?!”  
  
Dave sends a deadpan look his way as Gamzee jolts and pulls his arms to himself defensively, and Karkat winces a little.  
  
“… Well. Only gods in this universe ends up all of being us, ain’t that so?” Gamzee isn’t looking at him, simply looking down to his lap.  
  
“Well yeah, to anyone but you that’s pretty much obvious, Gamzee- I just can’t believe you’ve-“ He flounders with words, hands moving vaguely as if he can grasp words with them, “finally given it up? Let it go? It’s all you used to talk about, and now it’s suddenly not relevant anymore?”  
  
Gamzee sighs and leans back in his chair, taking a sip of chai, mulling over his words for a while before uttering, “Sometimes, I really wonder about you bros and sis’, Karbro.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Dave injects before Karkat can even contemplate what _that_ means; it’s a good question.  
  
“What I..? Well, me up and realizing my religion ain’t real is –“ Gamzee grimaces a little and looks around for inspiration, sighing so hard the remains of his tea ripples, “the most obvious of fuckin’ outcomes after everything, ain’t it so? Didn’t you know brothers, that my religion turned out so violent and wrong?”

 

“Yeah, you but you didn’t exactly mind your religion being violent before??” Dave looks like he wants to slap Karkat over the horns, but Karkat’s not sure why. Like Dave knows so much about clown-religion?!  
  
Gamzee purses his lips, fangs digging deep into his lower lip, and furrows his brows. He strokes a frond over the still warm ceramic of his cup and tilts his head to the side.  
  
“Well, brother. If you got complaints about me not bein’ all like that anymore, I am all up for criticism.” His tone sounds final, and it makes Karkat so _angry_! He’s not even sure where the anger comes from, but suddenly he is, and he just wants to _strangle_ the fucking clown-reject!!  
  
Dave is on him before he can even begin to pounce, tugging him back and hissing “what the fuck, Karkat?!”, but Karkat feels all the rage bleed out of him like water running off him, and he staggers in Dave’s hold and shakes his head to clear it.  
  
“I- wow, fuck, I’m just the worst, what the fuck?” He feels dazed and maybe a little docile, and absolutely terrible. What had he been about to do? Gamzee hadn’t even said anything near bad enough to warrant that kind of anger??  
  
Gamzee looks very guilty, looking down in his tea and staying quiet.  
  
“Yeah, I’d say,” Dave says, maybe a little cooler than usual, hand on Karkat’s bicep firm. “You were about to fucking start a beatdown, babe. I think you should just accept that Gamzee doesn’t believe in clown-gods anymore, okay?” Karkat bobs his head in agreement, not about to turn away that piece of solid advice when he obviously has a pan full of fucking sawdust, and Dave coaxes him back in his seat before getting seated himself.  
  
“Now let’s finish up here so we can start your OCD-level schedule.” Dave nudges his shoulder, and Karkat nudges back weakly, still feeling guilty. He glances to Gamzee, but he is dutifully avoiding his gaze. Something about that is a little suspicious, but he’s too guilt-ridden to think through hidden motives and useless shit like that.

 

The rest of the breakfast is spent in silence, despite Dave’s tries.

 

 

Karkat’s initial plan was to move the whole camp to the sea for Feferi and Eridan’s comfort, but it turned out to be too much work with insects, cleaning up the sandy dunes for rocks and sharp objects and stray plants.  
  
His next plan was digging a river all the way to the camp, but people moaned and groaned until he rearranged his (superior) plans.  
  
Now, with the help of Dirk, he is installing a huge pool. John will be responsible for changing the water, together with Jade. It needs to be big enough for Feferi to splash about and sleep in, which means it has to be pretty sizable. Feferi insisted that in the meanwhile this will be more than enough for her comfort, but with Eridan’s subdued whinging; he really _is_ trying, Karkat suspects that it just barely covers their needs. Feferi is already starting to collect seashells and seaweed for her evening piles, and they smell.

 

Gamzee is following behind him with a couple meters between them, still quiet from their little disagreement (if they can even call it that? Karkat’s still not sure what even happened, but he feels sorry for it.), and when they arrive at the site, a huge area marked up and dug down several feet into the ground, Karkat turns to Gamzee commandingly.  
  
“So! We’re the first here, no surprise- our job today is to reinforce the walls of the pool here with these plastic sheets-“ He motions to neatly folded sheets, several dozen of them, “and then lining giant rocks along the walls so the area won’t collapse when we fill it with water. That’s it, that’s the whole job. We need to find huge ass fucking rocks for the bottom and the walls so it’ll hold, and that’s where you and Equius comes in. That sound good to you?”

 

“Sounds pretty motherfucking crystal, brother.”  
  
“Good! I’m going to start spreading the sheets around, just come over with rocks and I’ll tell you where to place them.”  
  
“Cool!”  
  
Gamzee is off looking for rocks, out of sight after mere moments. Damn, he’s fast. He still shudders to think about it.  
  
“Ahem. Mutant-blood.” And here comes his second help. “I mean. Karkat. I apologize. You were needing my _strong_ help today, was the word?” Equius is gliding over to him, in his usual singlet and combat boots. He looks a little less sweaty than usual.

 

“Yeah, I need you to move some rocks around. Gamzee is already out looking for some big ones.”  
  
“How primi- .. Ah, the highblood is also here today?” Well, the dryness was nice while it lasted.  
  
“Yeah. He seems pretty hyped about the pool, really.”  
  
“Is that so..”  
  
“You gonna turn this into a competition?”  
  
“What? Loodicrus. I am merely. Surprised. By his willingness to help.”  
  
“Well, don’t be. Just get to fucking work already, I need to spread out this ugly ass plastic sheets.”  
  
“Very well. I shall aquire some rocks.” Equius purses his lips, hiding a smile poorly, “the _biggest_ ones.”  
  
“Holy fuck Equius, why are you still here.”  
  
“Good question.” He jogs lightly, ducking under some vines and into the forest. He seems well acquainted with it, and Karkat suspects he’s been up since last morning.  

 

Karkat gets to work. It’s some frustrating, pointless work. The bottom of the pool is covered easily enough, but there’s no way in hell the plastic will stick to the muddy walls without some well-wedged rocks stabbed into them. Karkat curses and sweats and silently rants to himself, rolling up his sleeves and losing himself in the mindless manual labour.

 

Gamzee comes back with some medium sized rocks, and Karkat cusses him out; they’re supposed to be huge rocks, especially for the corner!!  
  
“If I wanted head-sized boulders, I’d go fetch them myself, assmunch! How about you get some actual fucking sizable ones!”  
  
Gamzee shrugs sheepishly and plops the boulders into the pool and disappears again into the mess of vines and trees. Karkat supposes the medium-sized ones are okay for the bottom of the pool for an authentic look.

 

Time passes, and Karkat has pulled out his phone as he waits for the two morons to return. He’s not _antsy_ per se, just curious if they’ve met. What they’re talking about. If Gamzee is okay.

 

Just as he stands to go look for them, he hears a squeaky honk and ducks away from the huge boulder smashing into the corner of the pool.  
  
“Mother fuck, strong-bro, watch where you fling those things!”  
  
“I was merely doing the easiest thing for me. You should throw your boulder too.”  
  
“Uh, maybe not? What if I up and hit my bestest Karbro?”  
  
“A minimal loss.”  
  
“Uhhh…”  
  
Karkat hisses and jumps out of the pool to take a look at the couple; Gamzee has a huge boulder resting on his skinny shoulder, looking to Equius uncertainly. It feels like his frail body shouldn’t be able to carry anything that large, but with his cold-blood lithe muscles, while not as strong as a pure blueblood like Equius, he is quite a lot stronger than looks perceive. Equius is standing tall and as graceful as ever, probably imitating a horse if he knows Equius right.

 

“You fucking moron! You could have crushed me!”  
  
“You would have revived. It has been confirmed that we are all god-tier immortal.”  
  
“That’s not the _point_ , horse-face!”

  
“Please stop belittling my interests, lowblood. It is not behoved by someone who wastes their time on quadrant flicks.”  
  
“Shut up!”  
  
“Neigh.”  
  
Gamzee walks over to another corner of the pool and firmly jams it into the corner, straightening out the plastic a little in the process.  
  
“This good, motherfucker?”  
  
“Yeah, that’s fine Gamzee. Now go get some more- Equius, I need you to jam some small ones into the plastic of the walls so they’ll stick.”  
  
“Fine. I shall prove how much _strong_ er I am compared to the two of you.”  
  
“I’m sensing some AR in you still, Equius.”  
  
“He is a good friend. We get along very well.”  
  
Gamzee leaves while they’re still bickering, searching through the forest for more boulders large enough to Karkat’s liking. Equius jams rock into the walls of the pool like missiles, aim impeccable as always.

 

All in all, it takes the three of them most of the day to isolate the pool to an acceptable level.  
  
“I still think we should come back in the morning to make sure it is water-proof before filling it with water.”  
  
“According to my calculations, the pool should be sufficiently so.”  
  
“According to my calculations, you should be glad to spend another day here, moron. “  
  
“Hmm. An interesting thought. Very well.”

 

“Shouldn’t you be hanging out with Nepeta right now? Or is she still sleeping?”  
  
“She’s with Davesprite at the moment.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“… And you’re okay with that?”  
  
“Of course- it is only natural.”  
  
“Sure, but aren’t they being overly pa-“  
  
Gamzee collapses, and falls over the edge of the pool in a crumpled lump. The remaining two trolls freezes, staring at eachother before they both jump down, Equius putting a firm hand on Gamzee’s shoulder.  
  
“Highblood- .. Gamzee. What is the matter?”  
  
Karkat slaps his hand away (he’s with Nepeta, they’re pale together, they’re like the poster-child of paleness-) and smoothes a hand over Gamzee’s shoulder, shaking it a little.  
  
“Gamzee?? Can you hear us??” Is his voice a little choked? Oh God, Gamzee is _sweaty_ , he’s panting!  
  
“Hhuh….? Uhh..” Gamzee sits up slowly- it’s a miracle he didn’t crack his horn against anything, he _swears_ \- “Oh, hey Karbro.. Uh.. What’s up..?”  
  
“What’s _up_?! More like, what’s _down_! You’re down. You’re down in the pool after you fucking fainted!”  
  
“…. Oh… For real?”  
  
“Yes, for real! It looks like you’ve run from drones all day, shithead!”  
  
“My Lord. Friend. It seems you have not gotten sufficient nutrients for today. Or possibly water.”  
  
Gamzee is still panting, sitting up with some shaking- especially his arms, they’re downright vibrating- and brings a quivering hand to his forehead. “Huh.. Well, that wasn’t up and being my purpose.”  
  
Karkat and Equius shares a look, and Equius crosses his arms. Karkat helps Gamzee up on unsteady feet.  
  
“You fucking moron! If you’re tired you should have fucking said so!” Karkat keeps his grip firm around Gamzee’s waist. He’s leaning heavily on him, legs looking suspiciously jelly-like. “You’re no good if you’re so fucking beat I have to carry you home, chuckle-dick! Are you trying to like, outdo fucking Equius on this shit? Do you even have the brains to consider that hey, maybe he is possibly most definitely stronger than you, and that making this into some fucking competition is stupid beyond reason?!”  
  
Equius is wiping at his brown and neck, decidedly a little hot under the metaphorical collar. Gamzee looks dazed and confused.  
  
“Competition-? Ain’t no brother heard about none of that on this day…” it sounds like a hassle to even speak. He’s still shaking.  
  
“Then why didn’t you tell us you were fucking exhausted?!”  
  
“I – was I up and supposed to?”  
  
“What kind of FUCKING question is that?!” Gamzee leans away from him a little, making an uncertain noise in his throat.  
  
“Sorry- just- What the fuck, Gamzee!” It feels like a thing he’s said way too many times these past couple of days.  
  
“I- I was just tryin’ to be all kindsa helpful, brother-…”  
  
“I.. Shall take my leave.”  
  
Equius, on reflex it seems, does a little bow and is off. There’s a silence slowly settling over them as they overlook the work they’ve done for the day.  
  
“Gamzee.. Why didn’t you stop when you were so fucking exhausted..?”  
  
Gamzee shrugs and looks like his mind is a hundred miles away.  
  
“I … Guess I didn’t know I was supposed to.”

 

That, more than anything else, tells Karkat that there’s something seriously wrong with Gamzee.

 

And now, he needs to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, Karkat- it's like you pulled your head out of your ass finally!! Maybe he'll start noticing some more stuff now..? >:-)  
> (I really like the thought that Gamzee was quite quadrant-popular; just not very red-inclined..)


	6. I thought we were avoiding quadrants?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad people are enjoying my fic! I'm not intending this to be a 100k fic, but suddenly I want to write about all the characters, haha... haaa.... But yeah, look at all this pale shit, it's great.

It’ll have to be facepaint.

 

The trek back home had them both exhausted, despite only being some hundred feet away from the pool. Gamzee, the poor fucking moron, can’t stop his arms from shaking, and can’t stand upright without Karkat’s help.

 

“It’s fine bro- just a lil’ shaky, didn’ expect bein’ all up and vulnerable on yo-“  
  
“Shut the _fuck up_ , Gamzee, I’m bringing you hive, getting you something to eat and drink, and you will accept it or so help me Gog!”  
  
He does shut up, but appears to be pouting as well. Maybe it’s awkward for him to be depending on his ex like this? What does Karkat really even know at this point?  
  
Which brings him back to his preferred choice of blackmail. Well. That, or getting into someone’s good graces- it’s almost the same, right? Vriska would be proud.

 

Anyway.  
  
An act of good will, then! Showing that he cares, but not _too_ much. Nothing pale to see here, no siree! Here in a show of stellar friendship, maybe he’ll just slap it down in front of him all like ‘just take this, shitface’, and Gamzee will be all like ‘omg wowza Karkat, motherfuckin’ miracles’ and then ‘imma cry because that’s so sweet, can you paint my’—no- no, fucking Christ, _not_ pale! Just the first part, and it’ll be great!

 

And then, surely, the explanations will come a-spillin’. A mountain of information that will crush Karkat’s curiosity like the most dangerous of meow-beasts-killers. Exclamation marks will be aptly added into almost every line of their dialogue in mutual understanding, and Karkat can, after a long day of uninterrupted quality information, sleep like a wiggler snuggled up to their lusus.

 

It’ll be so fucking great.

 

With that in mind, Karkat manages to keep his voice light and unaffected as he shuffles Gamzee over the threshold of their hive (weird- Karkat always thought of it as ‘his’, even with Dave here) - he gently leads Gamzee to his trusted loungueplank and practically drapes him over the arm of it. It’s so hard letting go of his waist.

 

“Right. Part one of my ingenious plan complete. Now I need food, water and maybe like a blanket..? Didn’t Dave say something about people with low blood-pressure getting more sensitive to cold..?” He stalks over to his clothing-storage and searches through it- the things he has are kind of ratty and awful, probably especially compared to a high-blood like Gamzee, but it’ll keep him warm so he better fucking appreciate it anyway. Karkat scowls and looks over his shoulder as Gamzee lets out a breathy giggle.  
  


“What.”  
  
“Nah, just. ‘s funny.”  
  
“What. My awful fucking blankets? How poor I was? Is that what you’re fucking laughing at?!”  
  
“Wh- _no_ , nah, I wouldn’t ever Karbro, that’s fucking awful?”  
  
“Oh. Uh.” Great. “Then what?”  
  
“-.. uhh…” He seems to have lost all courage. Karkat could literally bang his horn against a metal surface.  
  
“I’m just being a bulge-biter, Gamzee. What did you find funny?” Karkat says more gently, throwing the blankets into Gamzee’s lap, and he dutifully starts wrapping himself up in a makeshift cocoon. Karkat literally physically starts looking around for horns, then closes his eyes and huffs a little, exasperated with himself.  
  
“It- it ain’t funny lookin’ back at it- uh.” Gamzee pulls up a blanket all the way up to his chin, very carefully avoiding rubbing the fabric against his face. “Just had the thought, y’know. Your rants’ve kinda been getting’ some wicked upgrades. Like. Inspiration-wise.”  
  


Karkat squints suspiciously. “Uhuh..?”  
  
“… And it was like..” Gamzee sinks further into the cushions and swallows nervously. “Hey, I hear a certain time-bro weepin’ with pride somewhere..”  
  
“! ! ! -- .. –!” Karkat has never been so fucking mortified in his _fucking_ life! He manages to choke out a shriek of embarrassment, grimacing and throwing his arms around his face to hide his redness and shrieks some more. From what he can hear, it sounds like Gamzee is trying really hard not to giggle again- and not quite managing. It might sound a little nervous now, though.

 

“It ain’t a bad thing, brother- I’m in the opinion of that all quadrants take to each other’s quirks-?”  
  
More screeching. Gamzee is definitely still giggling, probably realizing Karkat is just embarrassed. “Shut up!! Shut up shut up shut up, I am _not_ at Dave-level ranting!!”  
  
“Bro, you were always at that level.”  
  
“Wh- no I was _not_?!”  
  
“Honk.” Karkat can literally see the smileyface.  
  
“A compelling argument!! But have you considered- _no_?!”  
  
Karkat stomps to the kitchen as Gamzee starts laughing outright, heart pounding and face aching from the smile he tries suppressing.  
  
Boil. Tea. Sweetener early this time. Creamer.

 

Gamzee’s shoulders are still shaking with mirth as Karkat brings back the tea, a hand politely over his mouth and eyes crinkled shut. Their new sun is slowly going down in the horizon, and the orange of it is catching off of the purpleblood’s horns and teeth, the rest a hazy glow. He drapes the blankets further over his shoulders and chest and sighs the after-laugh sigh, and Karkat feels like crying.  
  
He’s so _fucking_ pale for him.  
 

“Drink the tea, alright? I’ll alchemize you something to eat.” Gamzee look up to him with a sheepish little smile. Everything is soft.  
  
“You don’t have to up and do-“  
  
“ _Drink_. I’m getting you food now. Don’t move around. Can you hold the cup?” Karkat holds the cup out to him, and cool hands wrap around the cup as well as his hands. Gamzee’s own hands are filthy, but not as filthy as his face. Karkat leaves it be for now.

 

“Think so..” His hands shake a little, but as Karkat gently slides his hands out of Gamzee’s, the grip is steady enough.

 

“I’ll be gone for maybe ten minutes, okay?” Karkat fusses, feeling strangely calm in this twilight atmosphere. He gently moves some of the heavy curls hanging over Gamzee’s shoulder behind his back.

 

Gamzee looks up to him, and fuck everything light and holy, but Karkat can recognize the look of cautious hope. The ex-clown’s brows bunch up a little, and the smile he gives Karkat is a little tight, stressed.  
  
Karkat smiles back. Tries anyway. It’s probably a horrible grimace. Augh, the thought has him making an even worse grimace. This was such a nice scene, and he ruined it. Way to fucking go, Vantas, for someone who watches obscene amounts of romance-movies, you sure know how to fuck up the revelation-scene-  
  
“Okay, best friend. I’ll keep up and cozy here on the loungeplank..” His voice is raspy when it’s soft like this. Not so dopey. More a calm tired. “Thank you.”

 

Karkat blinks away automatic tears, embarrassed at how sentimental he’s being. Gamzee catches it- Karkat can _see_ that he catches it, and he just keeps smiling that smile, a little more sure of himself.  
  
“y-.. yeah.” Wow, when did he get this hoarse?  
  
There’s a silence. Gamzee seems lost in his mutant eyes. None of them can look away for a blissful moment.  
  
Karkat blinks. Forces himself to snap out of it.  
  
“- Yeah. _Yeah_ , I need to- .. get that food, ugh. You’re useless, you know that??” Karkat bristles and tries shaking off his embarrassment. He stomps over to the door and huffs. “If you get even close to that tired, you should stop, okay?! Moron.” He huffs. Stomps his feet into his shoes and opens the door. “And now I have to _take care of you_. Hmpf. Ridiculous. God damnit.” He doesn’t sound very convincing at all, and he knows it. Everyone knows it. Even the Mayor knows it. _Especially_ the Mayor knows it.

 

“Sure thing, best friend..” Gamzee leans his head back and closes his eyes, stroking a thumb along the warm cup. “I’ll just be up and relaxing here like I was done got told by my bro.”  
  
Karkat swallows desperately so he won’t chirrup, face aflame. This is so .. _Domestic_. And they’re not properly back together yet!  
  
… Yet. His bloodpushers soar.  
  
He gives Gamzee an awkward as fuck wave and absconds out of there before he humiliates himself prematurely.

 

He’ll have to get that food. And food is more often than not with a certain healer. Coincidentally, another person of interest is often joined at the hip with the healer.  
  
And Karkat _sorely_ needs a good starter for a pile.

 

His mind is going a mile a second, planning what they should have in their pile, what they’ll talk about, what Gamzee wants to know from him- if they’ll pap right away, or if maybe that’s too early? It worked so well last time, but obviously they did _something_ wrong- but if he’s reading the situation right he still has a chance?? Oh god, what if he fucks it up?!  
  
No- no, calm thyself, Vantas. This is going to be fine. Everything’s under control, the feelings are mutual, the mood is there, he only needs facepaint and food, and the rest will go as smooth as a pale-porn!  
  
Karkat sends a couple of frantic texts to Dave as he half-jogs to Roxy’s house; a skill he may or may not have learned from him. Dave sucks at giving advices, but his rambling is somewhat calming. By the time Dave has inevitably fallen into the slippery slope of Freudian slips, Karkat has already managed to alchemize a full meal (what Dave calls McDonalds), white facepaint- which was easy enough once he added Roxy’s ‘make up’ to the code, some horns (don’t ask) and a pair of baggy pants that are almost the same as Gamzee’s old ones, but without the dots. He’s uncertain if Gamzee would want them right now.

 

Admittedly, it’s a bit over the top. Roxy is squeeing. Jane doesn’t seem to quite get it, but looks at him all squinty like she’s trying to puzzle him out. He hisses at her, but she just giggles. Fucking Egbert genes.

 

“Is he doing alright? Gamzee.” Jane tries to sound casual, but she’s too curious. To be honest, if this was a couple of years ago, Karkat would be mortally offended that the human would try to pale solicitate his pale crush through him, but he knows better now. Most of the time.  
  
“Fine.” He replies tensely, and Roxy taps her on the shoulder in a ‘leave it’ way. Living in a troll-ruled post-apocalyptic earth most likely gave her more troll-etiquette than she is even aware of. Or, well, if other Carapacians are anything like the Mayor…  
  
Jane is not about to give it up though.

 

“He hasn’t said anything about his injuries..? The scarring isn’t tight or too uncomfortable-?” Roxy winces at her bluntness, and Karkat feels his upper lip pull back over his teeth without his consent. Talking about the _injuries_  of someone's potential moirail is--..  
  
“He hasn’t.”  
  
“Jane-“  
  
“Well, I just need to know! I couldn’t exactly strip him where he-“  
  
“ _Jane!”_  
  
“You _fucking_ stay away from him, Egtard, he doesn’t need _your help_!”  
  
“Obviously he does- I’m a healer-“  
  
“And a nosy fucking-“  
  
“ _Guys!!”_  
  
The two of them look to Roxy, who looks a little nervous but mostly exasperated. She puts her hands on her hips and smiles tensely.  
  
“How about you two take a step away from each other and suck in some deep breaths? Jane is worried because she couldn’t heal Gamzee fully and feels at fault. She’s not trying to get pale with your boo, okay??”  
  
Jane squawks a little, feathers ruffled and quick to deny, “What- _no_ , I don’t even _like_ him like that-?!”  
  
“Oh, just like you _totally_ didn’t like J-“  
  
“That’s _enough_ , Vantas.” Roxy’s voice is ice, and Karkat clacks his teeth shut automatically.  
  
“… Fuck. Sorry.”  
  
“That’s right you’re sorry.”  
  
“I – I didn’t mean that, I’m happy you helped Gamzee when I didn’t give a fuck..”  
  
Jane, tense and with a fiercely unhappy scowl, takes the effort to let her shoulders drop. She still has her arms tensely knit by her sides though.  
  
…  
She sighs tersely.  
  
“You weren’t not giving a fuck, you ass. It was obvious to everyone but you, basically. And you’re welcome. I’ll. Try to not meddle too much.”  
  
“.. Thanks.”  
  
“… But I _do_ want to know if he’s in physical pain, okay?? It’s within my rights as a healer.”  
  
“I’m soooo proud of you guys??”  
  
“I could just call Feferi though.”  
  
“ _Seriously Karkat?!”_  
  
“I’m joking, holy fuck Roxy!”  
  
“Oh. lol.”  
  
Karkat finally manages to turn his attention to alchemizing the dark grey facepaint, and captchalogues everything. Thanks both of them.

 

He turns back to face Jane after opening the door.  
  
“You- couldn’t heal him fully..?”  
  
The soft tissue under Jane’s eyes tighten, and she sighs and shakes her head ruefully.  
  
“I can’t heal wounds that have already healed on their own, okay? I tried, but I only managed to fade some of the scars.”  
  
Karkat doesn’t know a lot about how Lord English was, besides from having been a humongous asshole if he’s taking John’s word for it. Unhinged, powerful, a war-machine.  
  
He knows he had a huge golden machine-gun. He figured from before it was his strife-weapon. He already made that conclusion ages ago, concluded that he’d be liberal with the use of it, know John spoke of trying to rip it out of his grip once upon a time.

 

He still feels cold run down his backrod when he realizes that those circular scars on Gamzee’s shoulder probably aren’t the worst of it.

 

“.. Thanks for telling me, Jane.”  
  
“You’re welcome..”  
  
Roxy looks unhappy. They must have talked about it already.  
  
“I’ll.. Tell you if there’s more you can do, okay?” Jane is gracious enough to not get snotty with him. Thank God; there’s enough snottiness with John.  
  
“I appreciate that. It’s nice to see that you’re putting Gamzee first.” Karkat has to admit he likes hearing that. He nods and closes the door.

 

 

It’s only halfway back to his hive that he realizes that’s the most ashen action he’s gotten in his life. The ashen taste it leaves in his mouth gives him a new appreciation for the name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we're slowly getting closer to the 'Gamzee is really not okay' part. Realizing there's a problem is the first step towards acceptance, Karkat!


	7. Pale, Pile, Pity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Straight up pale-porn. Tread with caution. Can lead to emotional diabetes.

Karkat’s sure he couldn’t have raised his voice if he tried when he opens the door and calls out for his now widely known pale-crush.   
  
“Gamzee- I’m sorry I took so long, I thought I might as well alchemize your some pants that actually fit-“   
  
He locks the door without really thinking it through- a reflex left with him from Alternia- and looks over to Gamzee with a soft smile.   
  
Gamzee is staring at the black TV, eyes wide and tea spilling slowly since the cup is tilted slightly away from him. He doesn’t seem to be looking at anything, only like he just realized his worst nightmare is true- even though only his eyes emote. He looks so empty.  
  
“Gamzee..?” Karkat approaches him slowly, not about to scare Gamzee into a rage. He has _some_ decency in his otherwise shameless bones. But it seems it doesn’t really matter, because Gamzee shows no sign of having heard him. He’s so still, it doesn’t seem like he’s even breathing. His eyes are a clear yellow, his pupils round and large. Karkat can’t quite see his hide's complexion, but he seems somewhat bloodless in the patches of washed away paint. He’s not even shaking. He’s sitting there stock-still, muscles so tense they can’t vibrate.

 

As his foot steps over a creaky floorboard, Gamzee’s eyes snap to him, fingers clutching his cup of tea hard. The descending sun makes his eyes reflect weirdly, almost purple.

 

At once, Gamzee sinks into the sofa, breathing out a shaky sigh.   
  
“Hey, best bro..” He smiles at Karkat dopily, glancing down at his tea. “Huh.. “ He brushes the bottom of the teacup against the blanket so it won’t drip anymore.   
  
Karkat stands there, a couple of feet away from him, uncertainty trickling through him.  
  
Gamzee isn’t okay. He’s not… Well. There’s something wrong, and so much shit happened that Karkat’s not sure what it even is. A mix of everything? Gamzee never told him. Just brought Karkat’s hands to his face and closed his eyes trustingly. Never said a word, really..   
  
“uhh…” Gamzee leans forward a little to look at Karkat’s face better, concern dipping the sides of his mouth down, makes his ears even more droopy. “Something wrong, Karkat..? I- I’m sorry I messed up the carpet..?”   
  
Pity punches through Karkat, makes his hands ache and his breathing-bladders tight. How can Gamzee be so pathetically wonderful after all he’s done..? Is it really all about relationships when it comes to how people treat one another..?   
  
“I’m-… Okay.” Karkat says decisively, holding a hand up reassuringly. Gamzee leans towards it, but Karkat doesn’t want to seal off all the potential talking they could be doing tonight. Gamzee looks disappointed, and Karkat is glad that they have all the time in the world to build up to that again.

 

But right now, he needs some patience.   
  
Karkat sits himself close to Gamzee, gently taking the cup from him and setting it on the table in front of them- Gamzee reaches for it again. “No, I wasn’t finished-“   
  
“You don’t have to drink it all-“  
  
“I _do_ – I should have, ‘till you came home-“   
  
“No, I have food for you, I’d rather-“  
  
“ _I need to finish the TEA.”_ He doesn’t really shout it, more like he puts pressure on the last word- Karkat gives him back the tea.   
  
“- sure- sure, finish the tea, Gamzee, I didn’t mean to take it from you-..”  
  
Gamzee takes a deep sip of it, probably not even bothered by it being lukewarm now. He calms down quickly, hiding his nose into the cup even when he stops drinking it.   
  
“… Sorry..”  
  
“What are you sorry for, Gamzee..?” Karkat leans his shoulder very gently against Gamzee’s, and the purpleblood sighs.   
  
“I- I know you … I .. uh.” Karkat leans back and briefly close his eyes, then looks to Gamzee from the side of his vision. In this angle, he can see how sunken in his eyes are. Maybe he has days where he can’t sleep as well..?   
  
Karkat stays silent, and after a while Gamzee continues.   
  
“I don’t know… I feel really sorry.” Gamzee wets his lips and takes another sip. He says ‘sorry’ like he’s not sure if that’s the right word.   
  
“Hmm.. Well. I’m sorry too. I said I’d be ten minutes, but I was gone for half an hour, so… I’m sorry about that..?”

 

Gamzee turns his head so he can look at Karkat, smiling a little, raising an eyebrow at him. “I think I’m up and willing to let some minutes in my immortal life pass, best friend.” He sounds both sincere and joking.

 

Karkat smiles a little back. “Good, then..” They don’t say anything until Gamzee finishes the cup. Was it because he asked Gamzee to drink his tea while he was gone..? He’s not sure if Gamzee is ashamed of it or if he properly realizes.

 

When Gamzee puts the cup back on the table, Karkat fishes out the meal from his sylladex. Gamzee seems to take a liking to it, slowly eating the fries one by one, completely focused on it. Karkat lets him, doesn’t want to disturb him when he’s eating. A lot of trolls gets all territorial about food, and even though he’s pretty sure Gamzee never really was, he’s willing to say that may have changed. He thinks through what he’s going to say instead, biding his time and taking in how he sometimes hesitates before picking up another fry, or how he fiddles with the burger and pulls out a pickle. Karkat congratulates himself in getting Gamzee something that doesn’t require cutlery.

 

When he’s half-through the burger, Gamzee sighs out an uncomfortable ‘ugh’, resting the burger onto the waxy paper in his lap, swallowing. He breathes in through his nose and swallows again.   
  
“You okay?” Karkat puts down the phone, locking the screen.   
  
“… mhh..” Gamzee looks down to the burger, breathing out in a short sigh.   
  
“What’s wrong..?”   
  
“Nothin’, really..?”   
  
“But.. you’re not eating..? Are you full?”   
  
“Hmm…” Gamzee looks down to the burger. “I should finish eating.”  
  
“If you’re full it’s okay to stop.”  
  
“I dunno. I..” Gamzee rakes his claws through his hair, sighing again. Suddenly he looks so tired. “I dunno. I.. I… Hmm…” He doesn’t look panicked like before, only tired and resigned. He can’t seem to find the words. “I…” He shakes his head. “The burger is nice, brother. It’s a pretty big burger.” Like he’s evading telling Karkat it’s too big. Interesting.   
  
“Okay- here, I want the rest of it, give it to me.” Karkat holds his hand out, and Gamzee dutifully gives it to him, letting out a sound relief and putting his hands to his digestive sack. Karkat gobbles it up, no problem. He’s pretty sure he knows the reason why Gamzee got so fucked up doing all the lifting and throwing today, if that’s all he can consume before he’s stuffed. He resigns himself to add fat and creamer to his tea.   
  
They sit in a comfortable silence. Karkat takes his time chewing. They glance to eachother from time to time, and most of the time they give eachother sheepish smiles and looking away. It’s actually quite romantic.

 

It’s all Karkat needs.

 

“I.. Um. Oh fuck, I hope I’m reading this right-..” Karkat’s voice cracks a little, and Gamzee looks concerned immediately.   
  
“Everything right brother-? What have you read? Are you okay..?” He leans his shoulder a little more against Karkat’s, and his bloodpushers pump for Gamzee, for only him sometimes.   
  
“I’m okay, Gamzee, really. I’m just.. Nervous.” First stage; honesty. Personal, direct information.   
  
Gamzee doesn’t catch it right away, but when he does, Karkat can see how his neck and ears are slowly tinged with purple, like paint in grey water.   
  
“… oh..” Gamzee’s voice is a whisper. He turns a little, so they’re facing eachother. “I’ll always listen, Karkat.. What are you nervous about..?” Opening himself to the conversation. Showing interest. Not the usual ‘oh?’ he got before. He’s like a different troll. The troll Karkat _wanted_ to date once upon a time.   
  
“… I … I brought something, from Roxy’s. And.. And I kind of..” He shakes his head a little, willing himself to say it outright. “I was hoping that, by bringing it, I could… Initiate.. a- a-..” he whispers the last part, looking up to Gamzee hopefully, “a pile..?”   
  
Gamzee looks like he’s been struck by the most pleasant of lightnings. He looks down to Karkat like he’s a miracle. Like he just heard his lusus came home for 12th Perigee's Eve, and he can’t quite believe it.

 

“… y-yeah..?” He looks so worried, so hesitant as he moves his hands over to gently brush over Karkat’s shoulders in synchronized motions. He might be shaking a little. Karkat might be shaking a little too. Gamzee swallows. “I’ll- I’ll be honest b- .. Karkat, I’ll be really honest-“ Karkat freezes, already berating himself, “you could have brought me a dirty sock and I’d- I’d still wanna pile with you..” He grins abashedly, eyes crinkling shut, and Karkat laughs, a little deliriously, and a lot  with relief. He shuffles closely and wraps his arms around Gamzee’s waist, pulling him into a hug, one that barely has their chests touching. Gamzee’s hair smells bad still. Karkat can’t wait to wash it.

 

They hold the hug for a long time. The gentlest of touches. Touches that gives them both goosebumps, that makes them sigh and shiver. They both are close to tears, and it’s wonderful. They’re so close- they’re on such close wavelengths. Their breathing synchs.

 

Karkat leans back, brushes his lips against Gamzee’s lips and looking him deep in the eyes. Gamzee looks back.   
  
“I brought facepaint, Gamzee…” Gamzee’s eyes widens- if it’s because of the contents of his words or because he can hear the second vocals in his throat activate under his voice, he’s not sure. “Can I- can I wash your hair and face, Gamzee..? I really want to make you feel so good and relaxed..” He simpers it, and he can’t even feel embarrassed by it. Gamzee’s eyes tears up, and, for the first time Karkat has witnessed, leaves streaks of them over his cheeks, smudging the makeup further. Karkat brings a hand up to wipe at his tears, and Gamzee lets him. He nods. He looks down between them, but doesn’t conceal the deep and scratchy little sob that rips out wetly from between his teeth. Lets it tumble out, doesn’t shy away from Karkat when he drags Gamzee back into a hug, rubs a hand over his back firmly, soothingly. “I want to take care of you.. Please- …” No orders, no suggestions of orders, not during this. “Please know that I want to so much, Gamzee.”   
  
“Karkat-“ Arms wraps around Karkat in return, and Gamzee whispers close to his ear, like he only wants him to hear it. “I want to take care of you t-too Karkat- never e-ever think I- never think I ever didn’t want to, cause I did- I wan-wan-wanted you to-“ his voice hisses out in a rush, he hugs Karkat tighter, “know that, always, Karkat- you’ve been so –“ Gamzee whines, rubbing his face into Karkat’s neck, coating it in white and grey, “so wo-wonderful to – to me, and – and I can be good back, I _can_ , for you I can.” He smoothes his fingers through Karkat’s thick, short hair, not a trace of a claw – only the stumps of his fronds, and he does it again, three times, then slows down on the fourth. Karkat holds him firmly back, refusing to buckle, to fail Gamzee when he’s so frail.   
  
“Hey- it’s okay, I’m okay… We’re here, and I hear you, okay..? Thank you, Gamzee..” Karkat smiles as Gamzee gives off another little sob. He has a feeling it had a long time coming. It sounds like the sobs Gamzee gives comes from somewhere deep.

 

“That’s it, Gamzee..” he croons, pressing their chests further together. Gamzee whimpers and pulls away, and Karkat can feel why- it feels uneven. Kind of sunken in, in a way that makes Karkat’s chest clench in confused disgust.

 

But that’s not the focus right now, and this house of cards will fall down if he pursues it.   
  
So he simply holds Gamzee’s face, forcing his face to be soft and smiling. Gamzee _melts_.   
  
“Can I wash your hair and face now..?” Specific on what he wants right now. Gentle and non-demanding. _Sweet_. Pale like sugar.   
  
“ _Yeah..”_

 

Karkat takes Gamzee’s hand, and leads him up to the second floor. They take their time, looking at eachother, trying to read eachother’s minds. They slip into the bathroom, and Gamzee sits down on the toilet-seat like they’ve pre-planned this. Leans his forehead against the spacious sink, thick curls spilling into it. He even combs the rest of them between his horns and around them for Karkat.   
  
”You’re so good for me…” He’s not sure why he says it like that, but Gamzee _chirps_ , like drops of water hitting the surface of a small pond, and Karkat chirps back. It fills him with unbridled joy to communicate like this.

 

Karkat would normally be annoyed that he can’t do Gamzee’s face first, but he doesn’t mind right now. Gamzee is letting him do this, and it doesn’t matter if he can’t follow all the steps just how he wants.

 

Everything’s okay right now.

 

Washing and combing Gamzee’s hair takes an hour. It’s so thick and unruly and knotted and matted, Karkat has to cut a couple of clumps out. But he cuts it out gently, so it won’t show when the hair is dry. Starts combing at the tips of the hair and patiently combing down to the roots. Does it while it’s wet so the curls won’t knot it up again. Rinses out the hair-clumps, rinses it again so the conditioner gets out completely. Scrubs oh-so-gently against the base of Gamzee’s horns, so gently it doesn’t trigger anything. He thinks. Gamzee is humming from his chest steadily, and his pupils are huge.

 

He dries Gamzee’s hair and puts it in a pony-tail at the base of his neck. He already looks like a different troll altogether.

 

With gently but firm hands, he snatches wipes out from his sylladex, and holds Gamzee’s chin up with his thumb and index finger.   
  
“I won’t hurt you..” Karkat’s own eyes are half-lidded. He’s never felt more in power and trusted in his life.   
  
“I know..” Gamzee closes his eyes, face lax. No- relaxed. There’s a definite difference.

 

With well-placed strokes and gentle rubbing, the rest of the paint comes off. The small dips of half-developed scales on the bridge of his nose and cheekbones, (more common the more cold-blooded you are) reminds Karkat weirdly of Dave’s freckles. He smoothes the pad of his thumb over a cheekbone, smiling to himself. It’s cute.

 

Gamzee flutters his eyes open as he hears the jar of paint being opened, cocking his head to the side and nuzzling the palm of Karkat’s hand. He’s like an overgrown, half-starved, attentionsick meow-beast.  
  
“Karkat..?”   
  
“Hmm…?” He sets the jar down and holds Gamzee’s face in both hands.   
  
“I… Don’t want the face paint on..”  
  
Karkat blinks. “Okay… You don’t have to. Can you tell me why…?”   
  
“… I want.. Later but.. Now I’m with.. uhh…” It’s so easy to see the purple gathering on his cheeks now, wow. “I’m with you now..”   
  
Karkat chirps, a long, trilling sound that expresses his desperate joy at hearing those simple words.

 

“I’ll help you put it on later, I promise..”  
  
“I know, best friend- pale, pale diamond of mine..” Gamzee grins up at him, and Karkat didn’t know he could be this pale for someone. He keeps being surprised.   
  
Gamzee’s face falls a little, and Karkat holds his face a little firmer- no- no, he was so wonderfully beautiful like that, happy-

  
“You don’t- “ Gamzee can’t seem to break eyecontact for once, eyes big and nervous, “about my – up and about my scars, bro- you don’t…?” His hands motions vaguely to his face, and Karkat traces the middle of the three with a finger. 

  
Gamzee shivers.   
  
“No.” Karkat says it firmly. “It’s your face. And I’m pale for it. It makes me more pale for you, always.”   
  
Karkat brushes away tears for a couple of minutes, then smiles encouragingly to his re-found diamond. “Pile..?”   
  
Gamzee nods without hesitation.   
  
Karkat wanted so much information. Wanted to interrogate, wanted to write down a list of things he wanted to know. Wanted to publish books with the information he got, and wanted to tell Gamzee things until his sponge overloaded with information.

 

But Karkat fell asleep on the loungeplank, mere moments after getting them both wrapped up in no less than three blankets.

 

And if he heard two of his loves’ voices murmuring to each other, surely that was just the beginning of a wonderful dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this is sweet and all, remember kids: a relationship doesn't simply mend trauma. <3


	8. Clown Panic at the Disco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure what I feel about this chapter- I'm always up for some angst, but work has me like 'meh'. I hope you enjoy though!! :D

He wakes up to a soft, fleshy finger smoothing over his own black upper lip, and he knows of only one idiot that can play that kind of game and get away with it.  
  
Dave is leaning over the couch, shades up in his hair and red eyes gazing down at him lovingly. Their eyes meet, but Dave only grins more and pushes his thumb against Karkat’s fleshy lip, making him bare a couple of fangs non-threateningly at him. Karkat grumbles a little and nuzzles against his cool, firm pillow, slitting his eyes shut.  
  
He hears Dave’s phone go ‘click’, and he squints it back open again.  
  
Dave is tapping away, looking pleased as all fuck, which never means anything particularly well for a troll like him.  
  
He sighs and sits up a little, rubbing at an eye irritably. “Dave-“ he croaks, but Dave holds a hand up.  
  
“Shh.. He’s still sleeping.” Dave is all grins, and damnit if Karkat ever wants it to stop (unless it’s by kissing, in which case bring it on.).

 

Karkat looks back down, and realizes his pleasantly cool pillow was actually the meat between Gamzee’s backrod and shoulderblade.  
  
He promptly but gently, as to not wake him, snuggle back up to him, careful to not touch his chest or… Upper… front. He lets out a soft little trill, and Gamzee, though not awake, garbles out a similar little sound. It makes him make another little sound, because fuck that’s adorable.

 

“Ooh. Never heard that one before-..” Dave holds his phone up, already recording.  
  
“It’s not a voluntary sound, _Dave_. It’s a strictly pale one, and you’d know that if you ever conceded to watching _‘When a Young Blueblood-‘ –“_  
  
“Shhh, you’re gonna wake hiiim..”  
  
“… I’m gonna make you watch it one day.”  
  
“Mmhh..”  
  
Dave leans down, grabs him by the facenub, and gives him a firm, teasing kiss. Karkat kisses back, too sleepy and taken off guard (again, a tragedy.)

 

Just as it’s about to get heated, Gamzee gasps and sits upright, hand flying to his own throat. More out of sheer surprise than anything, Dave jumps back. He looks ready to draw, so Karkat licks his lips quickly (don’t think about how you kissed your matesprit while snuggling up to your moirail, Karkat) and smoothes a hand over Gamzee’s shoulder.  
  
“Hey- hey, you’re alright..” Gamzee whips his head around to look at Karkat. His eyes are tinged a glowing purple, pulsing with his erratic bloodpusher-beats. If Karkat squints, he can see the veins in his eyes and where the discoloration is, the beginnings of his yellow sclera adapting to adulthood.  
  
Gamzee hunches up his shoulders, coughs, hitches a breath in through grit teeth, and clutches his throat harder. Wheezes out a frightened moan.  
  
“Khhh…” His other hand scrabbles over the back of the couch, slicing open one of the cushions. Karkat is quick to cup Gamzee’s face in his hands, patting at his cheeks for attention.  
  
“ _Gamzee.”_  
  
Gamzee flutters his eyelashes like he’s about to faint, trying to focus, and sucks in another breath. He keens out a high-pitched whimper that makes Dave wince and cover his ears. It just makes Karkat’s chest hurt.  
  
“It’s okay, Gamzee- it was just a dream, see?? We’re right here, in my hive… C’mon fucknut, snap out of it-“  
  
“ _Honk.”_ This one made Karkat’s ears hurt too, but he just presses the pads of his thumbs on either side of Gamzee’s nose and smoothes them under his eyes, catching some dampness from the rims of his eyes.  
  
“It _was_ a dream, right? You’ve got to talk to me, Gamzee, that’s what I’m here for-“  
  
They finally lock eyes, and horror washes over him like a waterfall, crushing with its force. It’s- there’s no tangible thought; he isn’t getting flashbacks to a specific moment of having all his fear amalgamated into one big pile of horrible thought. It’s – animal. Straight up primal fear, fight or flight-instinct kicked into high gear and urging him into action.

 

It’s too much. The choice is already made; he can never fight his moirail- it’s against his nature, against his _species_. And he can never win. Bye, horrible, fucking pointless world, he guesses, this is fucking it. He closes his eyes. Waits for the inevitable with what he can only describe as the most pathetic little whimpering sound he’s ever produced in his fucking life.

 

Gamzee trills back, and it jolts something in him, knocks something frozen loose. It’s such a questioning, soothing, pitying sound. Karkat feels hands on his shoulders, inquisitive fingers feeling at the hairs of his neck. It’s the best he can to not lash out and swing his nubby, useless claws.

 

Instead, he squints his eyes open again, and his palemate’s face is twitching, scrunching up unhappily as he tries to breathe-  
  
Breathe.  
  
Suddenly, he has an idea what his apparent nightmare was about.

 

“Hey-… Gamzee, hey, look at me..?”  
  
Gamzee shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. Makes a retching sound without actually vomiting.  
  
“Karkat- uh-..” Dave is standing by the couch, hands out in a classic display of ‘I don’t know what to do, but I want to help’. He’s shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and his shades have found their righteous place on the bridge of his nose. His face is carefully blank.

 

“No, Dave- I think-.. Just maybe, grab us some pillows and a blanket from upstairs? I’ve got this.” Dave doesn’t question the command, just flashsteps up the stairs soundlessly.  
  
Karkat kisses Gamzee’s forehead, continuing to smoothe at his cheeks and suddenly realizes he’s not scared anymore. When did it stop? He didn’t notice.

 

“Okay- focus on me breathing, Gamzee. You don’t have to look, just listen. Try to follow my breathing, ok..?”  
  
Gamzee seems to be listening, but can’t seem to even begin to follow Karkat’s demonstrative breaths. He chokes and gurgles and coughs, drool dripping between them.  
  
“ _Hhhhhh….—“_ He brings a hand up and slaps at his throat, mouths something Karkat doesn’t catch.

 

“I know- I know, Gamzee, but listen okay-? You’re not- in there anymore, you’re here with me- so...” What can he do?? How can he help?! What if he faints, Dave _never_ faints-  
  
“Hhhonnk…” Gamzee brings his free hand up and gives Karkat’s cheek a soft, kind of shaky pap, and for a moment, everything goes fuzzy. It’s not the sort of fuzzy Karkat wants to get used to; it’s distracting, sudden, and then everything just kind of- _oh_ … Oh, that _is_ kind of nice.. Just soft skin brushing against his sets his nervous system on gentle fire, fronds dipping into his thinkpan and _stirring_ , but stirring as if to say ‘you don’t need to think right now, just _be_ ’, something that Karkat never really _do-_  
  
The next thing he knows Gamzee is looking at him, still pained and struggling but _there_ , eyes yellow, if a little tinged with red. He looks alarmingly purple.  
  
“kkt.. kkhhk…” Gamzee folds himself in half as if shielding his chest and stomach, hands twisting into his hair ( _his freshly cleaned hair, the curls sticking out like a lion’s mane from where the hairtie is-)_ , and he keeps keening, pleading wordlessly- Karkat shakes himself out of his stupor; Gamzee is the one suffering right now, and he needs to _focus_.  
  
“Gamzee- Gamzee, you’re having a human panic-attack- it- it means that you feel like you can’t breathe, but you _can_ , you just have to listen to me-“  
  
Karkat tries to make their eyes meet, but Gamzee twists his head to the side and tries wheezing in a breath- the rattling sound it results in will most likely haunt his dreams.  
  
“P-please Gamzee, please _calm down_ \- I – oh god… I can’t help you, can I? I’m just a useless fucking mutant, how the fuck can I make you breathe? Oh god. Oh god, uh- fuck, shit-“  
  
Dave is just about to push Karkat aside when wind slams their entrance door open. Gamzee _jumps_ vertically up towards the ceiling, then topples over the back of the couch.  
  
What the fuck just happened??  
  
“Woooooooow, Karkat!” John drawls out as he flies over to the frozen troll, arms crossed. He takes in Karkat’s frankly mortified expression and rolls his eyes. “You never could step out of your own hate-bubble, could you! Come on, shouldn’t you be focusing on something else?”

 

“Dude, did you fucking listen in on our-“  
  
“I’m literally the Heir of Breath, Dave- voices travel far for me!!”

 

“What the fuck do you _mean_ , my hate bubble-“  
  
“Literally! Like, the moment you start doubting yourself, it’s all about you, you, _you_ -“  
  
The couch goes skidding against a corner, making the trio whip around to look at Gamzee. Dave’s sword is out; Karkat can see him clutching at it desperately. Mostly keeping his cool for now though, which Karkat appreciates.

 

“Oh right-“ John glides over to Gamzee, who curls up further and lets out a croaking honk that makes the windows shake. John squeezes his eyes shut, the blinks them open and looks down to Gamzee in surprise.  
  
“Oh, wow! That’s like a sonic boom or something! I didn’t know trolls could do that!”  
  
Gamzee looks to John’s shoes, then up to his shirt. Then he whimpers, coughing and trying to force in another breath. Somehow that gets to John, because he furrows his brows and purses his lips. He looks over to Karkat, grinning to him.  
  
“Is it like a pale thing to force-start someone’s breathing with God-powers? Like, as a heads up, you know?” Karkat stares at him as if he just said he pailed his lusus.  
  
“What the _fuck_ John, just fucking help him?!”  
  
“John, c’mon dude-“  
  
“I was just _joking_ , Jesus… or Jegus, hehe!” He crouches down to Gamzee, tapping his shoulder.  
  
“Hey dude. Gamzee. You mind if I.. Uh, help you out breathing for a little while-? It won’t feel very good, but it’s better than fainting, right?”  
  
Gamzee’s eyes are just slits, but he nods anyway. John’s grin softens a little, and the doofus looking weird windsock-hoodie John wears fills up with air and swishes in a way that Karkat secretly finds a little cool. Piano-fingers stretch out towards Gamzee’s face, both his nose and mouth, and John breathes in, which forces out the air from Gamzee’s lungs. His eyes pop open in utter panic.  
  
Then John breathes out, and Gamzee takes an automatic deep breath in. His eyes rolls back, and for a moment, Karkat is pretty sure he _did_ faint- then his shoulders and chest tremble in a cough he can’t make, and John breathes in again. Out. In. Ooout… He starts making each breath in deeper. After a while, Gamzee stops twitching and seems to start cooperating, like a child realizing they’ve lost, but completely and utterly different.

 

John moves his hand away, but continues breathing in and out deeply, and Gamzee follows mindlessly, eyes closed in concentration, ears cocked forward a little as he listens to him breathing.

 

Karkat jumps when Dave puts a hand on his shoulder, then slumps against him heavily, wrapping his arms around his waist. Nuzzles his neck. Sighs softly and kisses it, kisses it again. It feels like a day has already passed, but it’s just morning. He’d read once that chucklevoodos do that, but he’d never- somehow it had never--?

 

“Huh.. So that’s what you look like without make-up! You’re kinda pretty, in like, a troll way!”  
  
… _fuck_.  
  
Karkat just manages to catch a glimpse of Gamzee’s pupils contracting into pinpricks, and there’s a swoosh, a _clang_ , and Gamzee is gone.

 

John, hair tussled and face an innocent confused mask, blinks and looks over to the pair.  
  
“- Did I say something wrong?”  
  
Dave groans. Karkat groans. Karkat lies down on the floor and groans louder.  
  
“Whyyyy are you so _fucking_ thickheaded Egbert??!”  
  
“ _Dude…”_ Even Dave sounds completely done. Karkat rolls over to his back and double facepalms.  
  
“What! I just said he looked nice! Clown make-up isn’t very flattering, Karkat, you have to admit that?? Wasn’t I in a way, uh, encouraging him to maybe not wear it? Cause he’d totally fit in more if he-“  
  
“You fucking _idiot_!!!” Karkat screeches, but he knows Dave predicted this one. He jumps back up to his feet. “You- incompetent, douche-spawning fuckdick!! You fucking tall glass of cursed shit-sopor!”  
  
“Jesus fuck, Karkat, I-“  
  
“Can you handle _one_ fucking situation with a little more grace than a granule of salt in the fucking earth dead sea?!”  
  
“Uh-“  
  
“Rhetorical question, Egbert, cause the answer is _no_!”  
  
“Hey now-“  
  
Dave chops the air between them, and their intense glaring-contest (mostly for Karkat’s part; John is grinning for some fucking reason.) and pokes a thumb in the direction of the vents.  
  
“How about we focus on the task at hand, huh..?”  
  
“- Wait, is he in the _vents_ -“  
  
“Shh- not so loud Derpbert, he doesn’t want the whole of our new world to know, fuck.”  
  
“He did that on the meteor too.”  
  
“Really? Why?”  
  
A small pause. Dave and Karkat shares a look, then they both shrug a little. Karkat’s voice is back to a more normal volume when he carefully says,  
  
“We never really got around to talking about… _Why_. I just. Knew, and then kind of adapted?” It feels kind of sick, saying it out loud like this. Remembering how one-sided it all was back then when he kept on _giving_ , and Gamzee just kept on _taking_.. His voice gets even softer, his ears drooping. “It wasn’t a very good moirallegiance at the time. I couldn’t get him to talk, so.. I never really knew why he..” He shrugs. This isn’t a fucking feelings-jam. The humans seems to take human-pity on him.

 

“Okaay…” John makes a confused grimace that makes Karkat want to shake him firmly. “But that’s like, changed now..?”  
  
Karkat somehow refrains from seething, and manages to breathe out a “I sure fucking think so”: it seems to at least pacify Dave. John still looks confused, not that Karkat’s overly surprised.

 

“So… He’s in the vents.”  
  
“Uhuh.” Dave is wrapped around Karkat like a cloak again. It feels welcome.  
  
“And he’ll just…stay there?”  
  
“You saw him without facepaint, dumbfuck! It’s taboo for him, and he’s probably- well, no, he won’t be praying to chucklefuck gods anymore-…”  
  
“What….?”  
  
“I’ll tell you later, John, just listen to Karkat for once.”  
  
“It’s fucking sacred for him, okay?? I only saw his face without facepaint when we were on the meteor, and I’ve known him pretty much since I was hatched, okay?? That shit is not okay!”  
  
Dave hugs him a little tighter, and Karkat cocks his head to the side and looks to him.  
  
“I didn’t take a picture of his face. Like- before you freak out.”  
  
Karkat swears he gets an honest to god flashback to the moment he heard the ‘click’ from his camera this morning, freaks out for three seconds, then realizes what Dave just said. Then gets angry, then realizes that’s fucking absurd.  
  
Today is a rollercoaster of emotions.  
  
“Oh, so.. When I said he looked pretty without make-up..” Dawning realization on John’s face is bittersweet.  
  
“It sounded like you were mocking him, pretty much. Uh. Maybe not mention his religion all that much for the time being, bro.”  
  
“Huh… Well, shit.”  
  
Karkat sighs out in a whoosh and goes limp, trusting Dave to hold him under the arms and keep him somewhat upright.  
  
“I’m going to go grab his facepaint. Why the fuck are you even here, John? Were you spying on us or some shit?”  
  
John fidgets.  
  
“Ehehe… Well, so. I mentioned my hearing is really good right- and like. I don’t wanna go all Star Wars, but imma go all Star Wars- there was a disturbance in the force!” his voice goes all story-teller, and Karkat can _feel_ Dave grinning.

 

“So you decided to check it out, and boom- clown-panic?”  
  
“Clown Panic at the Disco, Dave. I had to do something.”  
  
“Don’t trash my favourite band, John, I _swear_ -“  
  
“Now _why aren’t I surprised_ -“  
  
They banter for a while. It feels nice after the drama that just happened, and Karkat recons Gamzee probably needs some down-time before someone interacts with him again.  
  
And to be honest, while he’s looking forward to it- he’s starting to get nervous.

 

Is this really something he can help Gamzee get over..?

 

Despite the complaints from John about it being ‘gross and gay’, Karkat distracts himself with giving Dave a long kiss.  
  
Maybe just a little longer than usual to piss John off.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How is this long awaited pile going to go..?? When is it going to happen??? _Is_ It going to happen? Who knows...


	9. Venting in Vents, Vantas?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi and welcome back to my shameless pale fantasies.  
> Thank you for sticking with my fic, now kick back and relax something wicked ;o) 
> 
> Please enjoy!

“Fuck- damnit, shit-ow-SHIT. Oof.” He can hear Dave’s ill-disguised little giggles and John’s not-so disguised ones as he kicks and flails to squeeze into the vents.

 

Karkat realizes that he HAS grown since before the game, thank you very much! Not that he crawled around in his own vents a lot, but a growing grub has needs to explore.

 

Karkat is past angry words though, and is more focused on slithering through the vents to reach Gamzee; he squeezes the cool glass-container firmly in his grip and hoists himself in with a final grunt; thank fuck he doesn’t have any kind of phobia for small spaces, cause it’s a tight fit for him.

 

He slumps a little as his feet are finally gone from Dave and John’s sight and look around; surprisingly clean for vents. Hopefully he won’t have to take another shower after this!  
  
“Gamzee?” Karkat’s voice is soft and indulgent, soft enough that it doesn’t even echo against the metal walls; he can still see it when Gamzee twitches and scooches backwards, a shadow just a couple feet ahead of him. Upset, then; but not as much as Karkat had been expecting.

 

Karkat keeps hauling himself forwards on his forearms, then holds up the small vial; Gamzee’s pupils are easy to track- black void against luminous sunset-orange.  
  
“I’m just here to help you, okay, Gamzee? See, I brought paint! I couldn’t find a fucking brush, but figured finger-painting was more-“ He coughs a little, ears hot; definitely from the dust here and not embarrassment, “intimate, I guess, uh. Don’t worry about John, seriously, he’s a fucking mo-“  
  
“Put that on me now.” Gamzee’s voice is soft, but cool and demanding. I makes something in Karkat’s chest shiver.  
  
“I’m going to, Gamzee- I’m sorry John is such a moron, and I’m sorry I didn’t- didn’t realize-“  
  
“Now.” He sounds tired. Karkat notices that Gamzee isn’t looking at him- just glaring at one of the walls as if it had been insulting him. There’s not a lot of light in here, but he can see that Gamzee is all tension and- fear? It’s not a look the hotblood is used to on his moirail’s face.  
  
“Can you come over here then, please?” He can’t disguise the grating note in his voice, the demanding rasp. Gamzee easily crawls over to him, and fucking damnit, if Karkat didn’t pity the everloving fuck out of him he’d scream; it looks like something out of nightmares.  
  
But Gamzee just stops in front of him, eyes still not latching onto Karkat, strictly looking to the side and frowning. The mood compared to yesterday is so different that it’s seriously giving Karkat an honest to god whiplash.

 

“Hey, Gamzee.” He reaches up and gently picks a lock that’s escaped the hairtie and tucks it behind a droopy ear. The ears perk up a little at the motion, and Gamzee almost meets his eyes in surprise before simply closing them, as if not to tempt himself.  
  
“Hey, Karbro.” The nickname is old, but Karkat finds that he likes it. Reminds him of simpler times. “I am all up and sorry you had to drag yourself in here to find this blasphemous motherfucker.” He sounds – more than tired? - exasperated. With himself? He’s clenching his fists, but his shoulders are lowered. Hmm.  
  
“It’s not anything new, stupid-“ Ah _shit_ shouldn’t have mentioned that this has happened before, because Gamzee flinches guiltily, and it makes Karkat empathically flinch as well. “What I _meant_ bulgeface, is that I don’t mind- I’d wanna fucking take off if I got something like that thrown at me too- especially from _John,_ ugh.”

 

“… mmh.”  
  
“I mean it.”  
  
“Honk.”  
  
“Again, your literacy astounds me.”  
  
“Please…”  
  
“Wha- oh, _oh_ , fuck, sorry, yeah, I’ll just-..” Karkat wriggles a little to get comfortable, weight on his lower arms as he uncorks the little vial of paint; it has two compartments, one black and one white. He sets it down between them, then reaches his hands up gently and cups Gamzee’s face, thumbs stroking at his still kind of damp cheeks. Gamzee chirrs, not a pale sound and more like a warning growl.  
  
“Oh, shut up Gamzee, I can’t even see your face properly and I – want to do a good job, fuck.” The chirring stops, ending with a couple of questioning little trills, eyes slitting open without focus. Karkat gives him a soft little pap right on the face-nub, and Gamzee promptly lets them shut again. “That’s right, you lovable fucking disaster...” He paps him a couple more times, own bloodpushers thumping erratically at seeing how relaxed it makes his diamond. The tension is bleeding out of him by the second, enough that Karkat can slide nubby claws through his hair without a hint of complaint, rubbing very, _very_ gently at the bases of his horns. He considers taking out the hairtie, but decides it’ll be too messy for the soon to be commenced painting.

 

Gamzee melts like room-temperate butter, lowering his head gently so Karkat can- fuck, how could he just _do_ that, just giving him all the power to grab a hold of his horns and- and they’re low enough to almost scrape the metal floor between them and it’s downright _obscene,_ he’s being so--  
  
“So good…” He croons, gently taking hold of a horn and almost weighing it in his palm- it’s so ridged it should make him cringe, but it’s Gamzee. He could never, not like this. “So good for me, Gamzee,, fuck…” Gamzee mewls something unintelligible, a boneless mess in front of him. At least Karkat managed to break through some walls of tension; and that’s a fucking understatement.  
  
Karkat wishes with his whole entity that he could see Gamzee properly; it’s too dark to see the flush he can feel on his ears, the small twitches of them when Karkat finds a particularly sensitive place to smoothe his thumb over- he can only imagine the feeling for now, having someone stroke him right where keratin meets flesh. He wants to _see_.

 

“Gamzee…” he breathes it out, more affected than he’d like to admit. His pushers are pumping something fierce, his cheeks aflame. He wants to hug Gamzee so firmly they’ll melt into one big molasse-slow and heavy mass. He cups his palemate’s face again and gently guides him to face Karkat’s own again. “Why won’t you look at me, palest...?”

 

He hadn’t noticed when shit was going down, but in hindsight it was obvious- it makes him sad. A moirail afraid of meeting his mate’s eyes? The windows to his soul?  
  
Gamzee is too far gone to flinch away it seems, but Karkat can feel him frown. He smoothes at his brow and tuts a little, which makes it smooth out a little again. He keeps stroking and dragging his thumbs against sensitive skin, the bags under Gamzee’s eyes, the skin right above his ears, the hollow between his brow and his eyes...  
  
“Please tell me, Gamzee… I want to help.” He doesn’t know if it’s himself or Gamzee who makes the pathetic thrilling noise echoing through the pipes, just knows that he’s so close- just a little more and Gamzee will spill-

 

“‘scared you..” It’s a soft whisper, slurred and drowsy. Gamzee’s eyes are still closed.  
  
“Scared? I’m not scared of you, Gamzee..”  
  
“nah, juz… motherfuckin’ voodoos, I didn’t…. ‘m so sorry, palest motherfucker..”

 

Oh.  
  
“Oh… you- You couldn’t help it, right? It’s okay, I’m f-“  
  
“ain’t okay.. ain’t nothin’ okay with that.” Gamzee slits his eyes open again, not enough for his pupils to even show. He frowns heavily again. “Don’t wanna scare off my palest, sweetest moirail- ..” his speech halts a little, brows drawing up. _Again._ He doesn’t want to scare him again.

 

Karkat paps him gently on his cheekbones, then his cheeks, the strokes a hand gently down the side of his face again and again, keeping the rhythm firm and paps soft.

 

“You don’t scare me. Your powers don’t scare me.” He says it firmly, booking no argument. Gamzee opens his eyes enough to look to his chin, then looks down to his forearms, not convinced. He makes a small little sound when Karkat holds his cheeks in his hands, and Karkat refrains from urging him to meet his eyes. He needs to do that on his own.  
  
“I’m not, Gamzee, Jesus.” He sighs, using the current of air to blow back a slightly-too-long bang from his own forehead. “Yeah, your powers are basically to make people afraid, and it’s not like I’m immune to it- but it’s not like I’m dreading to meet your eyes or I find it uncomfortable just because I think it might suddenly happen!” He didn’t mean for this to turn into a scolding; but then again, he rarely does, and he frequently ends up doing it anyway.  
  
“… doesn’t mean I..-“ the rest of the sentence ends up as a huff of air, “honk.”  
  
Karkat pats at his cheeks encouragingly, giving him time to gather his thoughts.  
  
“I just mean… you were- helping me, and then. I was losing the grip on my pan and. It shouldn’t happen and.” He squeezes his eyes shut. Karkat’s vision has gotten used to the lighting and can see the way his purple-blooded troll’s face scrunches up. It’s hard not to say anything.  
  
“I’m sorry.” Gamzee finishes somewhat lamely. Karkat gets the feeling that he simply doesn’t have the words, just like before.  
  
“Thank you for telling me that, Gamzee.” Always encourage him to open up. Always make him understand that he can always tell him what’s up. That’s what a good moirail _does_. “I know that was hard for you.”

 

“I-“ Gamzee chokes on the words, but slurs it out anyway as Karkat paps at the apple of his cheeks, “I wanna tell y’so much more… I just…” he shrugs almost lazily, his face the set example of misery.  
  
“You don’t have the words..?”  
  
“Hyeah, brother… Diamond. You understand a motherfucker so well already..” He nuzzles his facenub and shouthole against the palm of Karkat’s hand, and the shouty troll blushes furiously.

  
“It wasn’t that hard to figure out.”  
  
“Would have been if you weren’t payin’ close attention.. Let me get my appreciation on..” He mutters it against Karkat’s palm, and a shiver runs up it involuntarily.  
  
“Fuck, Gamzee, I-“  
  
“I just don’t get it, John- you’re being such a fucking _dick._ ”

 

Both trolls freeze at the sound of Dave’s agitated voice. You’d think Striders would be all cool rage and stony silences when they get angry- and maybe the older one tries really hard to live up to that expectation; but Dave isn’t anything like that. He has a temper, and when he gets angry, his voice gets louder. He bunches up his shoulders and his hands get animated. Then he realizes and tries cooling down, but if you don’t give him a chance to, he just about fucking combusts.

 

Not that Karkat would know. At all. Because he maybe accidentally tried to put the blame on Dave for spilling apple-juice on the couch during movie-night. Twice.

 

Obviously, John is also somewhat aware, because he certainly doesn’t sound perturbed.  
  
“Haha- Whaaat..” John drawls it out like he’s surprised at Dave’s reaction, when it’s obvious he’s not. “So I listen in on some conversations; sorry for being all powerful, sorry for helping out!”  
  
“That’s _not what I’m saying-“_  
  
“Kinda sounded a lot like that was what you were saying!”  
  
“I’m saying that when someone’s fucking choking on air, and you can help them out, you _don’t joke about it then and there!”_  
  
“Huh!” John says it so lightheartedly that Karkat unsurprisingly finds himself seething; had John always so willfully ignored other people’s hardships? “I was just trying to de-escalate the situation- work some humour in here, we fucking need it-“  
  
“In literally any other situation, John, that would have been great- appreciated. Literally any other situation.”  
  
“Geeeeez, so I’m sooo sorry for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time..” John whines it out like a child, like he just wants to leave. It sounds like he’s rolling his eyes. Karkat is pretty sure he’s rolling his eyes.

 

“That’s—hghh!!!” John giggles at the sounds Dave is making, which Karkat finds- while very John- a little odd. Dave is clearly upset, and before, John has seemed to realize there is a line.

 

“Just chill, Dave- the situation is fixed, everyone’s breathing, trolls are doing their weird bromance stuff and we’re still best bros!”

 

“We would be if you could stop pretending like everything’s OKAY!!”  
  
Silence.

 

“… everything.. _is_ okay..” Suddenly John’s voice seems very small.

  
“It’s not, dude.. I know it’s not.”  
  
…  
  
“Everything’s okay!” Back to his boisterous outdoor voice. “You’re just put out cause I said that stupid stuff about Gamzee’s make-up; err. Face-paint.”  
  
“…”  
  
Karkat can _feel_ John fidgeting.  
  
“We’re fine! We’re all fine, we’re here, we’re alive, danger over!”  
  
“John..-“  
  
The soft sound of wind brushing through the house and tell-tale smack of his front door, and Karkat knows he’s gone.

 

The first thing Karkat processes is that maybe he’s not the only one with a difficult moirail. He knows Dave has been using a lot of time with John, spending late nights and early mornings keeping him company; he’d thought they’d just been having fun and frolicking in the fields of human broship- he might have been wrong about that.

 

The second thing is that he can hear _everything_ from where he and Gamzee are. He heard the little spat clear as day, and he’s sure Dave and John was in a completely different room than he and Gamzee currently are. So, Gamzee has probably listened in on a lot more than Karkat was aware of.

 

He uses a moment to panickily scourge through things he’s said about Gamzee without him being in the room, but comes to the relieving conclusion that while he’s thought many awful things, he’s kept their moirallegiance sacred enough to not air the really dirty laundry to other people.

  
Well- he may have said some things to Dave and possibly Rose in a moment of weakness, but he’s pretty sure Gamzee was in the fridge at that point.

 

… That didn’t make him feel any better at all, especially now that he knows that he’s seen the aftermath of it just fifteen or so minutes ago.

 

 “Seem like a timey brother has trouble makin’ air talk.” Bad metaphors aside, Karkat is reminded of his own duty at the sound of Gamzee’s musings.

 

“Mmhh.. I know they spend a lot of time together, but I thought they were kinda just…” A vague hand-gesture from his side, “watching shitty movies and having rap-battles or something.” It’s kind of sad to think that they’re not if Karkat’s being honest. They seem to be happy when they can be senseless morons together.  
  
“Naah, that doesn’t sound like a windy brother- doesn’ have the vocab for rhythmic prose.” Gamzee sounds thoughtful, like this particular discussion is the most interesting thing that’s happened to him in sweeps.  
  
“Oh, my apologies Mr. Intellectual, didn’t know you had to have an IQ of three hundred to drop some ill rhythms.” Karkat dips a finger into white paint, and Gamzee blinks before relaxing, seemingly remembering why he’s here in the vents here to begin with.  
  
“Ill rhymes, diabro.”  
  
“Oh _so_ sorr—No. No, absolutely not, take that back.” Karkat smears a glob of white on two fingers and spread it out over Gamzee’s cheek.  
  
“What.” A teasing little lilt in his voice, his dopey grin full of shark teeth and long fangs. “You’re my bestest bro. And my diamond. Diabro.”  
  
“Absolutely horrendous. Negative fifteen grubs. Don’t collect 20 bucks after start.”  
  
Gamzee snorts and honks so hard Karkat smears white up the bridge of his nose and over his forehead by accident. “What does that even mean?”  
  
“I don’t _know_ , it’s just something Dave says sometimes-“  
  
“That’s fuckin’ sweet, Karbro.”  
  
“There’s too much bro in here, Gamzee- now shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.” Gamzee immediately shuts up, and Karkat feels bad about it, but doesn’t have the energy to open that can of worms again. He dips his fingers back into the vial of white and continues smearing, slowly getting the hang of getting the paste-like substance on with an even coat. It’s not as messy as he thought.  
  
“Does this feel okay, by the way..? It’s gonna look really bad.”  
  
“Nah bro, ‘m sure it’s gonna look just great. ‘ll tell you how I want my eyes, but I think you’re doin’ a pretty fuckin’ miracu- … miraculous job.” His voice softens in the end, stuttering over his own quirk. Has the quirk changed now that he’s not religious anymore..? The redblood has so many questions it makes him want to note them all down.

 

“… Thanks.” Karkat leans forwards with a grunt and presses a kiss to the skin over his palemate’s brow, the only spot left without the grease.  
  
Gamzee carefully instructs him how to apply the black, where to smudge out and where to refine. The easy lilt of his tone and matter of fact sentences lull Karkat into a quiet stillness, only brushing his fingers where Gamzee tells him to. It’s nice, and at least twice as intimate as he thought it was going to be. When he’s finished and corks up the vial, he feels almost as relaxed as he did this morning.

 

“You did a really good job, paleness of mine.” Blackened lips very gently brush over his own, and Karkat grins abashedly before rubbing his lips together, spreading it out like lipstick.  
  
“Maybe next time, I can actually have some lighting provided and I’ll do an even better job.” He gently butts Gamzee’s hairline, and Gamzee chuckles back a little.  
  
“I- I really am-“  
  
“If you say sorry one more time, I’ll smear your fucking paint, I swear.”  
  
“Not ‘nother word then, Karkat.. Don’t wanna mess up this special fucking miracle we made together..”  
  
His voice is so warm, Karkat almost doesn’t want to get out of the vents to face the outside world again.  
  
But just almost, cause fuck vents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since it's back to studies I'm busy and a little burnt out, but your comments have inspired and encourage me to keep thinking about this fic!
> 
> I love it very much, and I have so much content I want to push into it; I'm very interested in hearing where you guys think this is going.. >:-) 
> 
> Thank you so much for your feedback and love, you have no idea how happy it makes me!! ^^


	10. Some Wounds are Slow to Heal (And Some Don't)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys sooo much for the kudos and comments! I can't believe people are still reading my fic, I appreciate it a LOT! Please enjoy this new chapter! :-) 
> 
> Warning: Mild body horror? Scarring

Things seemed to calm after that. Dave wasn’t very interested in talking about what happened with Egbert after they came out of the vents, and Karkat could understand that all too well. It’s like if he just started talking about Gamzee and his darkest deepest thoughts to Dave without provocation.  
  
Anyway, that would require that he knew Gamzee’s darkest deepest thoughts, which he really didn’t.

 

It’s stupid to pretend that everything’s fine when it’s not, but Human Rome wasn’t built in a day. That’s how Dave says the saying goes, and the rhetoric behind it isn’t exactly wrong.

  
So… Karkat took some days off to unwind from his own multiple emotional crisis. Finished the fucking pool and declared it open for all trolls. Feferi had been ecstatic, and Eridan’s surly frown had softened some as he took his first dive into the pool. He hadn’t even complained about how shallow it was, which Karkat considered a win.

 

Now they’ve been staying on stone-age Earth C for about two months, and people have settled into hesitant routines. The humans tend to stick close to the camp, and the trolls at least come back a couple of times a day just to reassure the rest of their pack that they’re alright.

 

It’s come to a point where almost everyone wonders why they keep living here, and not move on to a more modern time- with the sole exception of the Seers and a couple of the more mature trolls, who seem to be made of patience.

 

John especially has started to become a huge annoyance, to no-one’s surprise. His pranking has started to become intolerable, to the point where even Dave gets back hive fuming.

 

“I just don’t get it, Karkat,” he grumbles as they snuggle up on their sleeping platform, legs intertwined and lips against Karkat’s neck, brows furrowed. Seems like he wants to talk about it after all? “He’s not even thinking about how we feel before he goes and does something super-stupid.. And I mean, wow, Egderp has always been like that, jumping into things like a fish merrily jumping up a stream of a fresh water river. Wow, look at that, the river continues- hngh-“ a small squeak as Karkat sleepily chews on his shoulder so he’ll keep on track, “a-.. anyways..” a deep sigh, and Karkat holds onto Dave a little tighter, crooning encouragingly into his ear. “It just feels. Weird. Not like normal, you know? Usually he does it to make other people laugh or at least to…” He glances down to Karkat, but looks quickly to the side with a soft twitch of his lips, “bother people a little, but. Now it’s just _all the time_. And he won’t stop even when we tell him it’s not okay.”

 

Karkat nods and strokes a firm hand up and down Dave’s back, kissing at the place he was chewing on, soft and dry. “He’s just being a shit, Dave. It’s nothing new.”  
  
“… I dunno.” Karkat feels it when Dave sounds so insecure, so he presses their lips together firmly, then rubs their noses together, rattling off some noises that always makes Dave smile. He doesn’t have to know that Karkat do them on purpose just because of that.

 

They cuddle around for a while before Karkat sighs and sits up in bed, stretching a little. “I need to drink some water before we sleep. Need a glass?”  
  
“Nah. Got an apple juice under the bed.” He sounds so smug.  
  
“Ugh. Should’ve known.”

 

“You love me.”

 

“Stop fishing for compliments, it suits you too much.”

 

Karkat slips out of the room and closes the door with an unfortunately loud clang and walk downstairs. The stairs are a little creaky, but it doesn’t matter since Gamzee apparently is still up. Guilt immediately well up in Karkat, even though taking a small break from constant worrying is totally healthy and needed in a moirallegiance.

 

“Can’t sleep?” He murmurs as he heads over to the sink, filling it with cold water. He downs it in three gulps, re-fills it, gulps it down again, fills it a last time and brings it over so he can sit next to Gamzee on his couch.

 

Gamzee shakes his head mutedly and rubs at his eyes tiredly.

 

“Wanna talk about it..?” It’s not like Karkat really wants to get into any serious discussion now, but it’s so seldom that he sees Gamzee… Asleep. And the purple discoloration under his eyes are getting worse, like bruises but sunken in.

 

Gamzee shrugs, twirling a hairtie escapee around a frond, head bowed and ears droopy as always. At least he has pants that fit now, and grease-paint that looks fresh. He smells somewhat pleasant.

 

Not that Karkat is checking.

 

“Ain’t much to tell, best friend. Sleep is a motherfucker that welcomes all chaos and unholy restlessness into a brother’s vascular system.” Gamzee rubs a not-so-gentle pad of his frond against the rim of his eye, as if it’s itchy. “Ain’t much more to spill on the matter.”

 

“So, what, you have nightmares..?” He turns more towards Gamzee and look up to him. Gamzee still has problems making eye contact, even a solid week and a half after he lost control of his ‘voodoos. It makes Karkat’s chest ache.

 

Yellow and purple eyes flit up a little to meet Karkat’s for a moment, but he predictably looks to the side.

 

“Ain’t as much that as it’s.. ehh.” His shoulders bunch up a bit and his lips purse. He glances to Karkat again and promptly blushes a little. Karkat can only tell because of his ears, which are visible since he’s continues to keep his hair in a low ponytail (to Equius’ great mortification and probably arousal).  
  
“hmm?” a little chirrup sneaks into the sound, and Karkat totally lets it.

 

“As to just skip over that nasty biz, ya dig me most biznasty motherbrother?” He sounds sheepish.

 

“… You’re..” Karkat takes a moment to let that sink in, then leans forward towards Gamzee more, “you’re not _actually_ telling me you’re not sleeping, right?” He can’t even manage to sound angry. Just incredulous. Maybe just smidgeon upset.

 

Gamzee makes a little grimace that makes shows his teeth briefly, and squirms uncomfortably under his gaze. In the end he just shrugs defeatedly.

 

Fucking. Really? He’s just not sleeping-??

 

“At all?” another shrug, which makes Karkat’s heart pound. At _all_?! He splutters unhelpfully, flailing for words. Gamzee looks nervous and tired.

 

Of course he looks fucking tired!! How he’s functioning on a daily basis is a fucking miracle all on its own!

 

“What do you _mean_ ‘shrug’!” Karkat manages to stage-whisper, more like hissing out in displeasure. Gamzee rights up his backrod a little and seems to try to gather himself. Just remembering how out of it and useless _he_ had been when he didn’t sleep makes him want to fucking perish and with Gamzee as unstable as he was-..

 

“Now listen here, palest motherfucker of mine-“ he falters a little, back immediately bending into something more subservient, shoulders drooping a little again, “this ain’t some problem a wellmeanin’ troll can just up and solve, mkay?” he rubs his own cheek roughly, and Karkat wants to hold the hand and pet at it consolingly. He refrains for now, even though he sees the hand come off with heavy streaks of white. He wants Gamzee to speak. He so seldomly does, still.

 

“’mean, it ain’t only that mares roam up in this thinkpan in stampedes, though they do, as they do to any fucker with horns and probably non-horned creatures. Just, don’t you know how one fucker’s sleep up and fucked everything sideways, pouring some blasphemous shit out for all of you’s to drown in when I-..” Gamzee breaks off the sentence, shaking his head and growling a little to himself. Karkat lays a hand on his knee and squeezes, giving him an encouraging little smile. Gamzee’s frown melts like icicles in the sun.

 

“what I- what this brother is trying to say is that… He ain’t up and made for the miracle of sleep, Karkat.” He looks to the ground, surprisingly somber. “Just brings trouble.”

 

Gamzee hangs his head more, elbows on his thighs and hands together in mock-prayer, a whisp of a curl sticking to his nose because of the paint.

 

 “Well, first of all.” Karkat keeps his voice soft but firm, removing the hair and moving it behind Gamzee’s ear. “You’re making it seem like you haven’t slept since we came here, which is fucking ridiculous.”

 

Gamzee stares at him blankly, then scrunches his brows up and bites on his lip, as if scared of the repercussions.

 

“… you can’t be serious.” Karkat’s voice sounds weak even to himself.

 

“I- I – a brother thought you-“

 

“No, stop. I’m the fucking worst. How could I _not have noticed that you haven’t slept for over two months.”_

 

“I- sometimes I take naps, Karkat, I do-“

 

“Oh, well that makes everything better, then!”

 

“I just- you saw how it turned out when I tried actually sleeping-“

 

“And it was _fine,_ Gamzee! Everyone has reflexes to attack when we wake up without sopor!”

 

“Not aft- not- we shouldn’t _need_ that no more-“

 

“What do you mean? Since after the game?”

 

Gamzee shakes his head, frustrated. “No- I mean. Yes, but since- since he-. I guess since you all been through shit it’s- natural to have some shitty miracle-action, but-“

 

Karkat cups Gamzee’s neck and strokes his thumbs under Gamzee’s jaw, where he won’t smear the paint more. “Shhh… You’re not making sense, Gamzee, slow down.. sh..” Not properly shooshing, but close enough that a shiver runs up Gamzee’s backrod to his horns.

 

Gamzee heaves out a breath, breathing in deeply through his nose, eyes on Karkat, finding calm there. Finally. Finally seeming to connect with him and hold on. Purple-grey drilling into still reddish grey, face scrunched up. Pleading.

 

“I… I ain’t good with words.”

 

“You are, Gamzee. You just need to find them.”

 

They hold the gaze for a while, Gamzee visibly thinking, gaze flitting between one eye and the other, not breaking contact.

“… After. The white b-bulb guy.”

 

Doc Scratch. Doesn’t he know the name, or is he still scared of him? He can’t ask yet. “Mhmm..?”

 

“He up and. Planted…” Gamzee squints his eyes and swallows. He looks a little ill. “them mares up in our. Think-pans. When them dancestors of ours up and went and got themselves popped like balloons. Yeah?”

 

This is news to Karkat, but this was always more in Rose’s court. Or maybe Vriska. Definitely Vriska’s court. But he wouldn’t put it past the asshole.

 

“yeah..?”

 

“… Was. Fueled by the sun. ‘n that shit is- g-gone, uh-..” Karkat gently rubs his thumbs against soft hide, and Gamzee takes another deep breath, glancing to the door, the window. Escape-routes?

 

“Yeah, some alternate of Calliope destroyed it. What about it?” Karkat feels the hitch of his breath and the swallow against his thumbs at the name, but doesn’t comment on it.

 

“s- so… So…” He glances around again, the pulse under Karkat’s thumb spiking. “—I shouldn’t tell…” Gamzee whispers in a soft rasp, making the hairs on the back of Karkat’s neck stand. It feels like someone’s watching them, with the way Gamzee’s talking.

 

“- wh- why not, Gamzee..? I won’t tell anyone, you know this is between us, right..?” He keeps petting, soothing. Gamzee looks haunted, Karkat’s fingers feeling how clammy his hairline is getting. His face keeps switching between looking scared and looking confused, and it’s creepy when he can only see the black and white mask he’s painted on.

 

“I- …” he butchers the word before it’s properly out, twitching his eyes half shut, hunches his shoulders up towards his ears. “I- don’t….. know.”

 

“… You don’t know?”

 

Gamzee shakes his head.

 

“… You shouldn’t tell me, but you don’t know why?”

 

Gamzee whines and tries moving away from Karkat’s warm hands, but Karkat stays firm, moving more forwards, chests still two feet apart. “Why don’t you know, Gamzee?? The game’s over- I’m here and I won’t tell anyone- _anyone_ , not if you don’t want me to..?”

 

His moirail breathes out hard, tussling Karkat’s bedhead a little. “I just- have that-“ he struggles with himself for a while, “this feeling. I know it’s only a fuckin’ feeling, but before it wasn’t like that, it was more than a feelin’, but-“ He flinches and winces, putting a hand to his temple and squeezing his eyes shut. When they blink open a little, they’re the full glowing purple from before, not a hint of yellow.

 

Karkat tried very hard to not freeze, but he looks to the side anyway. He runs a hand through Gamzee’s hair, murmuring soft nothings. “Shhh, it’s okay, Gamzee…It’s okay to feel-.. scared..?”

 

Gamzee flinches so hard he almost dislodges Karkat’s hands, but he’d somewhat predicted it, so he moves a hand to Gamzee’s shoulder and strokes it comfortingly. “Shhhh shhh… Shooshoosshhh…” Karkat’s own bloodpushers are hammering, having finally gotten something _right_. Gamzee is scared- scared of sleeping, scared of-.. Not taking orders? Does that make sense? Scared of himself and his powers at the very least, if not just cautious.

 

“I- I don’t like this, pale- .. I don’t-“ Hands find Karkat’s wrists, but he doesn’t tug Karkat away from him, even when he easily could. He keeps his grip devastatingly gentle, gentle enough that Karkat can feel tremors. “This ain’t safe, this is _bad_ …”

 

Karkat puts Gamzee’s hands on his own shoulders with some maneuvering, letting him hold on, and strokes at his neck again. “What’s wrong with this, Gamzee..? You don’t have to tell me everything, but I want to know… you?” Karkat shakes his head a little, “better, anyway. I want to understand you, is that so bad..?” Gamzee shakes his head a little more, tightening his grip minutely before relaxing them, smoothing cool palms over Karkat’s thick sweather.

 

“Not—no I like that you-.. Only, motherfucker, spillin’ these blasphemous beans ain’t.. It ain’t right, I ain’t s’posed –“ he stops up, looking up to Karkat in mortified revelation. Luckily, they’re not glowing anymore. “Motherfuck.” He breathes, and Karkat scrunches up his brows in worried tension.  
  
“What..?”

 

“No, just… It ain’t the same. Like before.”

 

“… How.. How so?”

 

“Just. My thinkpan. It all up and. It’s weird, but-“ Gamzee shakes his head yet again, and Karkat wants to shake _him_. “Doesn’t matter half a shit- just.. Listen my palest mother fucker, my diamond, my sweetest, my _Karkat_..” He grins, revels in saying it Karkat realizes, especially when he notices how red he’s gotten. “Right this now I feel like I can tell you anything.”

 

Karkat leans forward and gives him a kiss, so sweet his teeth ache, so sweet his footnubs curl. Gamzee laughs a little, but it’s with exaltation, hands smoothing over Karkat’s cheeks and up into his hair, lips slightly sticky against his, all softness. Karkat makes an embarrassing sound when Gamzee rubs the shell of an ear between his thumb and forefinger, and Gamzee grins against the kiss and leans back.

 

“Ask, brother, ‘n you shall receive my mother fucking mirthful answer.” He seems excited and nervous at the same time- as if now is the chance, if only for a short moment.

 

Why the fuck can’t he remember a single fucking relevant question?!

 

“Was- .. Was your dream about the fridge-?” He can see his moirail’s face fall minutely before the expression fades back into delight in divulging.

  
“Yeah, bro. Couldn’t breathe.” Karkat kisses him again in reward, rubbing the resulting face-crease on his lips in what he imagines will become a habit.

 

“Is this-“ Karkat hesitates, but keeps their gaze locked, brows furrowed, serious. He needs to ask. “Is this- our moirallegiance, is this different from how it was on the meteor..?” Gamzee looks stricken, if not hurt, but after a couple of seconds he thinks it through and relaxes, having come to a conclusion Karkat probably wouldn’t understand.

 

“Course, Karkat- this ain’t nothin’ like- .. Wasn’t even myself, brother, I ain’t ever wanted to treat my best bro like that in my life, bloodpushers crossed and motherfuckin’ hopin’ to die-“

 

Karkat breaks the rant off with another kiss, nodding against him. It’s different. He’s different. He knew that, knew he wasn’t the same guy as the one sneaking around in the vents and dragging along dead bodies with him-

 

“Pale for you, Gamzee… I’m so fucking pale for you, I’m about to combust into sugarcubes-..” Gamzee laughs, honking through his nose and rubbing their foreheads together, shoulders shaking with mirth.

 

“You too, Karkat, you don’t understand how pale I am for you too, sweetest diamond.. Quick, more questions!”

 

Karkat chuckles as well, then hesitates for a moment; when they’re on such a good roll…

 

“Why don’t you want to sleep in the recuperacoon?”

 

A small pause, but Gamzee provides the answer readily, “you remember a brother’s fuckin’ cravings for them scrumpulatious neon fucking pies, don’t you? I ain’t wanna go back to that, not now that I’m not hungerin’ every hour of the day-..” he pauses a little and shrugs, “I figured that was kinda obvious, but..”

 

“Yeah, no, I totally understand that. Sorry for being such a fucking Lusus about it..”

 

“Nah bro, you were bein’ all sortsa welcomin’, and got confused. Ain’t no wrong with that.” He nuzzles against Karkat’s scalp. “Anythin’ else you’ve been wondering about, miracle-brother..?” A large hand is rubbing against Karkat’s back, and it’s unfairly soothing.

 

Karkat leans his forehead on Gamzee’s shoulder, sighing out in relaxation. “So many questions, I won’t be able to ask them all if I have all night.”

 

“Ain’t needed to get all told today, Karbro. We got all the motherfuckin’ time.” His voice has gone all soft and raspy, and Karkat wants to hear him talk forever. They exchange some goodnatured clicks and chirps, nuzzling up to eachother. Gamzee winces when their chests meet.

 

“...” Gamzee looks down to him, already knowing what the question will be.

 

“You don’t have to, Gamzee..”

 

“… I know, brother, but I guess it’s kinda inevitable you’d be up and asking if I ain’t too wrong.”

 

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I love this. I don’t want to ruin it.” Gamzee shooshes him, and Karkat sighs and leans away from the hug, looking up to his thin but tall boyfriend.

 

“… Can I.. Can you take your shirt off so I can see..?” Gamzee’s face crumples just so, hands automatically crossing so he can hug himself.

 

“I can, but… You gotta know, best friend, it’s not..-”

 

“It’s better than imagining the damage, Gamzee, believe me.”

 

“I guess that is just fair and square truth right there, huh.”

 

Karkat whispers, holding Gamzee’s gaze, and he doesn’t look away, “you don’t have to.”

 

But he does.

 

He scoots back and gingerly peel away the too roomy sweater, and Karkat tries really hard not to gag. It turns out as somewhat of a chocked sob.

 

The worst is his stomach and chest. It looks like something has been eating at him and left him half-finished. Bullet-wounds upon bullet-wounds has chipped away at his frame and left deep grooves and dips into his skin and bones, and has healed up as a heavy dark-purple scarring. His rumblesphere’s are most likely not functional, shot through and healed wrong, and his grubscars aren’t visible under the scarring of his sides. It looks like some of Gamzee’s ribs has been chipped away as well, leaving him devastatingly sunken in in the way malnutrition never could. What should normally be a flat plane is a bombed battlefield of scarring, and for a moment Karkat is sure he’s going to lose his dinner.

 

He holds a hand up to Gamzee’s chest, and he inches away, muscles tensing under ruined tissue.

 

“Oh, Gamzee-...” He very gently lays a hand on the middle of Gamzee’s chest, and Gamzee gives off a shiver. It feels unnatural, cold like the rest of him but smoother, skin crumpled up in ways it really shouldn’t be. “Oh-..” Karkat puts his other hand over his own mouth, sobbing into it dryly.

 

It looks painful.

 

Gamzee breathes in stiffly, then runs a hand through Karkat’s hair, carding through it gently, claws untangling small knots carefully. “It ain’t hurt as it did before, Karkat.” His voice is quiet, ashamed.

 

Scarring is a sign on strength in Alternia, to a certain degree. Losing limbs, organs, skin- it’s part of surviving, moving on. Scarring means you haven’t been hiding your whole life, that you’ve done your part and experienced and _lived_.

 

This doesn’t feel like that. This only feels like pain.

 

“But it does hurt, doesn’t it.” It’s not really a question, but Gamzee nods obligingly. Jane had been right, then.

 

“Only if I bump into shit though. Think some’a my plating’s been fucked.”

 

A pause, if only so Karkat can keep fighting his dinner to stay.

 

“Jane can-“

 

“Nah, brother. This shit’s healed. Ain’t work like that.” He’s right, but-

 

“How do you know?”

 

Gamzee shrugs. “That’s just the way, ain’t it. These don’t go away either.” He points to his face carelessly. Karkat can hear the resignation, cold and hard, settled into his voice.

 

For a long while, they sit there. Gamzee shirtless, Karkat very carefully moving his hands over his chest, feeling up the damage, moving as if to soothe the crumpled, stretched and smooth skin. Gamzee flinches from time to time, but insists it doesn’t hurt, ‘ _not like that anyway’_.

 

When Karkat can’t stand it anymore, he leans forward and gives Gamzee’s collarbone a little kiss, then leans away.

 

“You can put on the sweater.. You’re cold, aren’t you?” He can see the bumps raised on Gamzee’s arms. He slips on the sweater again, looking at Karkat like he’s a mystery; body posture withdrawn and hesitant, hugging around himself again in a way his plating obviously can’t anymore. Karkat is stricken with the wrongness of it again- to imagine that he’s been thrown around in that goddamn fridge like this, all sharp edges and no padding-..

 

Without Karkat realizing, Gamzee has slipped his arms around Karkat, stroking at his back again, shooshing softly, hesitantly.

 

“It ain’t none’a your fault, paleness… It ain’t so bad, don’t cry… Shoosh now, it’s past your coon-time, don’t ya know..?” He sounds awkward, like he doesn’t know what to say.

 

But somehow, that’s what makes it perfect.

 

“I’ll sleep if you do, okay..?” Karkat sniffs and wipes at his own eyes, not having realized how heavy his eye-faucets were spewing out pink.

 

Gamzee nods, as if resigned to it. Maybe Karkat is a bit see-through.

 

They grab the blanket and get comfortable, Karkat as the big spoon again so he won’t aggravate Gamzee’s chest. When he opens his phone to send a message to Dave that he’ll sleep on the couch, he’s met with a message that reads, ‘going to sleep, saw you talking. good night <3’. Karkat cries for a little longer just because of that, but Gamzee seems more than happy to wipe away tears and murmur comforting words.

 

Karkat plays with Gamzee’s hair until he sees his eyes slip shut and his breathing even, mind made.

 

Tomorrow, he’ll talk to Jane.

 

And possibly Dave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooof, now we're getting somewhere, huh! I'm sorry I'm dragging this out, but there's so much I want to add to this story that I'm suddenly 2k words in and then realizing 'aah yes. I have a plot' haha ;;; 
> 
> Thank you for staying patient with me, and please never hesitate to leave a comment, critique and otherwise! :-D


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